


Counterfeit Wings

by ShadowThorne



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dystopian Future, Future Fic, GrimmIchi - Freeform, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowThorne/pseuds/ShadowThorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Far in the future, humanity has outgrown its bounds. Becoming obsolete, the earth is slowly dying as we forget what solid ground looks like. Not everyone has forgotten though, and curiosity can be a beautiful thing. Two young men as different as earth and sky refuse to let the creations of society stand between them and what makes them happy. GrimmIchi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Far off into the future, the landscape has changed a great deal. On all sides, nothing but buildings stretch in a concrete forest. Trees are no longer a common thing, and the few species that haven’t perished from the surface of the Earth are now found only where humans have planted them; high up along the balconies and ledges of homes and offices or in parks that occupy the tops of skyscrapers. Cars and vehicles are a thing of the past. The cities are so overcrowded that traveling by foot is now the easiest, quickest and most common form of transportation, be it via the staircases and elevators within buildings, or suspended walkways that span the distance from skyscraper to skyscraper.

Most people hardly even know what the ground looks like anymore, have never visited the Earth’s surface far below where they live. Humanity did what it has always done best. It grew, stretched across all livable space upon the planet and when it ran out of room to grow outward, it went up. The average buildings stretch high into the lower part of the atmosphere, matching or even out reaching the hight of the very tallest of the skyscrapers and towers we see today. The buildings that rich and wealthy owners of well known business empires reach even higher and still more were always being developed and built taller. They reach so high that clouds drift between them and walls of glass reflect the sky.

Everything one needed to live comfortably could be found up in the main community. Trees provided oxygen, growing from the roofs, on balconies, even out of the sides of park buildings. The tops of some skyscrapers held whole fields and farms, where humanity’s food supplies were raised. Hospitals, banks, businesses, government offices, even schools and tracks and football stadiums were found inside the towering buildings, high above the world. People had no use for the ground anymore, for the dirt and the soil, for the solid and unyielding and natural state of the Earth. Covered with the evidence of mankind’s developments and endeavors, tracked and carved and crowded, it was no longer of use and so no longer a concern most bothered with.

As people went up, it naturally became a symbol of social status. The wealthy and powerful occupied the highest, newest sections buildings while the middle class and poor resided lower, where the buildings were in need of repair and the paint peeled. But even the poorest of people had never seen the ground, the real earth and dirt covered ground, where mankind had first started out at, where humanity had carved out it’s existence for so long. There were stories of the ground, great and terrifying tales of beasts and creatures both duller and more brilliant than humans. Of countless kinds of plants with more variety of colors than imaginable. But next to no one could confirm those stories. They were just that; fairy tales, dreams and nightmares. And for the most part, no one really gave it much thought. Very few ever gave the ground so far below them much thought. It was inconsequential, unimportant, unreachable and pointless. So long as it continued to support the foundations of the paradises and everyday splendors found in their manmade jungle of buildings, it went without thought and without notice.

••••

With the rise of the sun each morning, the higher reaches were gifted a spectacular view of the beginning of the day. The clouds on a clear day captured the brilliant oranges and yellows and those colors were painted across the vista of unending buildings, their glass and mirrored sides reflecting the sun’s light and the clouds. The sky above was blue and seemed to stretch out forever, a goal for humanity to reach towards. In the artificial fields, livestock roamed and grazed. Birds sang their melodies from the trees that grew around the city, a minimal of one on each balcony and used as landscaping around the entrances to the nicer buildings even though most entrances were located indoors. The sheltered walkways that led between skyscrapers bustled with people going to and fro, headed to work and to shopping malls or cafes. Their tops were of rounded, thick glass and their bottoms were designed in a way similar to a giant conveyor belt where people could stand and chat at their leisure, going in either direction, while they made their way between buildings and suspended miles from the forgotten ground far below. 

Looking out from the walkways, a forest of glass and concrete was visible on all sides. Beautiful, elegant buildings twisted up into the sky, ever reaching higher like upraised arms. Down, the buildings seemed to stretch unendingly until they were lost in shadow and clouds and fog.

Outdoor cafes held elegant furniture and bustling, refined crowds of people. The railings of polished metal and robust glass were ringed in low growing plants of pretty greens and pinks and purples, colors that were vibrant and different from that of the artificial surroundings. Trees that had been engineered to grow to specific shapes and sizes formed umbrella-like shelters in the middle of the lightweight but sturdy tables that were constructed around them.

It was in places like this that the very wealthiest of the citizens spent their time. The high class that had both too much money and too much power occupied the outdoor cafes, socializing and reinforcing their place in the hierarchy that had formed.

It was here that a young man born into a well off family spent most of his days in luxury and boredom. His cloths were of the finest, tailored name brands. His identification code was tattooed proudly against the underside of his right wrist; name, date of birth, class and even his lineage. At most times, his long sleeves covered his ID, but it was easy enough to push up his cuffs and so show off just who he was or gain entry to places reserved for only those that could afford it.

The admittance fee to his favored cafe was paid off by flashing his code, where his ID was ran through the cafe manager’s system and his tab was automatically added up and subtracted from his near limitless account. Once inside, he ordered his favorite tea and was shown to his usual spot, near the railing where he could look out over the endless city as well as keep an eye on the other patrons.

His father was a renowned doctor three buildings over, in the very tallest skyscraper in the city. His family had everything and anything they could ever need and yet, Ichigo always seemed to wear a scowl while he sipped his tea and listened idly as those of his own age and status chattered about nothing and everything. His riotous orange hair caught the rays of brilliant light and his handsome features caught the eye of many a man and woman, but his rich, coffee brown gaze ever drifted lower, out over the balcony and toward the short districts he was forbidden from exploring.

In the same block of the same neighborhood of the same city but in a very different world, the lower reaches -known as the short districts- were cast in dark, cool shadows with the fall of the sun each evening. Everything was washed in a monochrome spread of spilled inks, like an old television program; grainy and gritty and not quite realistic but all too accurate all the same. The windows were dingy, smeared in grime that had long ago set to the point of being un-washable. Cracks spiderwebbed some, others were boarded up. But the panes of glass that were still transparent enough to look through didn’t give much of a view.

On all sides, no matter what window in which building, the view was always the same; concrete, metal, old, half rotted wood, all of which was stained and faded with age. The buildings stretched up so high as to wash the short districts in near permanent shadows. Even should one crane their neck to look as high as the human eye could see, even standing outside upon the balconies or the older, coverless, motionless walkways, said person would still be unable to see the tops of the buildings. They would see nothing but towering giants of metal and concrete and mortar stretching up to the heavens until the smog from the city clouded out the view.

To look down was to receive a similar view. The ground -still far below- was hidden in a thick, greyish fog that clung to the buildings’ very lowest floors. All that was below the poorest districts was even older buildings, the foundations of what had been built upon. Sitting in disrepair and abandonment, the old concrete crumbled and often showed the metal skeleton below. On occasion, crews still scoured the ground, just often enough to keep the buildings strong enough to insure they didn’t collapse.

The members of these crews were the only surviving humans to ever set foot on solid land, on a ground that wasn’t artificial and didn’t sway with the wind. They were the only ones to feel real dirt below their feet, to siphon soil through their fingers or smell the dew on the long, unkept and wild grass. They were the only ones to still know of nature and all her wonders.

It was dangerous and trying work. Work that broke bones and risked lives, work that required strength of mind and body, and it wasn’t for the faint of heart. Crew members were scattered, hard to find. They often worked alone and were each assigned a territory, where they made rounds and identified potential problems in the structures of the buildings. Only the brave and stupid, or the desperate signed on to work the ground crews, but it was a necessary job.

It was here that another young man could be found, a young man with little to nothing to his name and even less to his credit. He had no social status, probably born to a poor family with no name and no money, not that he knew who they were. He lacked the ID tattoo that showed he even existed. But his shoulders were broad and his body was corded in the muscle of a lad that knew hard work. His clothing was stained with old mud and frayed in places and his hair stood in a barely controlled chaos, but his grin was wide and genuine and showed off white teeth. 

Should anyone ever look long enough to notice, his features were angular and strong, but not sharp to the point of hawkish or being unattractive. Quite the opposite, really. Blue eyes seemed to reflect the sky that couldn’t be seen, even when he was on the ground and hard at work. His arms were strong, his skin a sun-kissed bronze and his torso rippled with well earned muscle below a shirt that had seen better days, when he bothered to wear one at all.

Grimmjow was at the very bottom of the ladder when it came to the city’s hierarchy, but his gaze was ever upward. He was a determined young man, stubborn and strong-willed. But his gaze wasn’t turned toward the tall districts because of ambition, no, Grimmjow enjoyed the freedom accorded to him because of his anonymity. He merely looked up for the same reasons he had looked down, and had eventually led him to join the ground crews; curiosity.

“Grimmjow!” A young woman leaned over the half crumbling rail of one of the lowest balconies still intact. The wood below her hands was rotting and soft, layered in mold and moss. Her big, wheat grey eyes scanned what was visible of the earth below, through the fog that always seemed to undulate between the lower sections of the tall buildings. The shadows were so deep in most of the areas visible to her that it seemed as though night had come early.

She huffed an unsurprised breath when she didn’t get a reply, but continued her search anyway. He couldn’t have been far. Again, she leaned over the railing and called out into the emptiness, “Grimmjow! If you want to go to that fete tonight, you better hurry and get back up here so we can clean you up and you can look halfway civilized.”

As if from no where, the tall, blue haired young man appeared almost directly below the balcony she stood on. Grimmjow grinned up at her, his feet firmly on the cracked earth of the ground and his form mostly hidden in the thick fog. “That’s tonight?”

“Yes, Grimm, it was your idea to sneak in! Shouldn’t you be the one to remember these things?” Nelliel rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly. She too lived in the short districts, but still higher up than her friend. At the very least, she had an identification tattoo and an official lineage. She’d never set foot on the ground and really had no desire too. She didn’t understand the lure it held for the blue haired man, but she’d long ago given up on trying to figure it out. Grimmjow was just Grimmjow and nothing would change him.

With a beautiful figure and a stunning, thick head of flowing, sea-foam green hair, Nelliel’s family had high hopes that she would marry a man of higher standing and bring a bit of financial comfort to herself and her family, but Nel had little desire to live among that society, nor could she imagine marrying a man that simply found her appealing for her looks alone. She had grown up in the poor districts, and she was content with living the rest of her life there, happy, comfortable. Still, that didn’t mean she thought herself below the higher classes and when her friends decided they wanted to go cause trouble for the privileged, she was all for it.

“I was working, gimme a break!” Grimmjow called back, a laugh in his tone as he was once more swallowed up by shadows and thick, rolling fog. Not more than a few minutes later, he reappeared, scaling the side of the building near where the balcony Nel stood upon was located.

Nelliel shook her head. She’d never understand how he managed to climb the sheer and seemingly smooth surface of a building so effortlessly, but then, perhaps it was a skill he had learned when he’d been just a boy, a street rat scampering under foot. Found parent-less and ID-less, Grimmjow’s friends liked to joke that he had probably been born in a basement, but the comment most would take as a grievous insult only brought a good laugh from the young man. Half the time, he agreed that he probably had been born in a basement, a closed off, lightless space hidden even lower than the ground was.

Hardly even out of breath, Grimmjow pushed off the building, swinging himself over and grabbing hold of the rickety railing of the balcony. He caught hold with ease and pulled himself up and over to land on his feet beside his friend. Nel grinned and grabbed his wrist before turning about and dragging him back into the dilapidated building’s interior. They took a right and began trotting up the first flight of stairs they came too, turning another sharp right at the landing to go even higher.

“Hurry and wash off.” Nel demanded as they neared where she lived. Sneaking into her own home, she pushed passed the flimsy door. She looked first left, then right, and after insuring her parents were indeed both at work still, she pulled him into their four room abode, located several stories above ground level. “You can use my shower, just keep it quick.”

“Heh, what? Do I look like a girl to you?” Grimmjow chuckled, crossing corded arms over his muscled, bare and sweat streaked chest. Working as part of the ground crew all day, dirt trailed up his arms and over his shoulders, smearing the golden skin of his abdomen.

“You certainly don’t look like one, but with how long you tend to take to bathe and how much you like guys, sometimes I wonder.” She laughed, jumping back and out of the way of his swiping grab as handsome features went from grinning to scowling. Her laughter only doubled as she gave him a quick nudge toward the curtain-less shower tucked in the back corner of her small, but clean and well kept bathroom.

He grunted a sound somewhere between amused and annoyed, and began tugging his dingy shorts down his lithe hips. The lack of privacy hardly bothered him and he quirked a brow over his shoulder as his shorts hit the tile floor and he bent to turn the water on. “Nnoitra comin’ with us?”

“Of course.” Nel answered, doing a valiant job of keeping her gaze trained on his face before she turned and started walking back toward the main room of her small home. “Just hurry so we can get changed and ready! He’ll be meeting us here.”

“Quit staring at me then, woman, Nnoi might get jealous.” Grimmjow grinned as he taunted her and stepped under the steady stream of room temperature water. He closed his eyes and turned his face up into the stream, hands running through his chaotic, impossibly blue hair as the water began lifting some of the grime accumulated from his long day of work on the ground level.

Nelliel rolled her eyes, but didn’t take the bait and instead continued to cross the small home.

A few minutes later, the shower shut off and Grimmjow stepped from the tub, water dripping from his lean body and weighing down his shaggy hair. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before padding through the living space to find Nelliel and Nnoitra sitting in the main room, waiting for him to finish up. Both were already dressed in their best clothes, Nnoitra’s long, inky hair tied back at the nape of his neck while Nel’s cascaded over her shoulders in luxurious, perfect waves.

They both paused and looked up at him and Grimmjow smirked a shark grin as he looked back at them, but said nothing. They weren’t together, and probably never would be, but Grimmjow adored teasing them mercilessly about it every chance he got. Nel rolled her eyes again and stood. Nnoitra attempted the same sarcastic reaction, but most of the sentiment was lost since only one of his eyes was visible.

Nnoitra stayed in his seat and tossed a bundle of clothing at the blue haired man, which Grimmjow caught. Shaking a pair of dark jeans out, Grimmjow stepped into them and pulled them up under the towel before removing it and letting it drop to the floor as he zipped and buttoned his clean pants. Snagging the shirt next, he unfolded it and quirked a brow as he looked over the clean, charcoal grey button up, certainly not one of his usual tee shirts.

Nnoitra caught the look as he finally straightened to his full, towering height. “Don’t give me that look. If we’re gonna sneak in ta the tall districts, you gotta look at least halfway decent. It was the nicest thing I had that would fit ya.”

The taller man casually pushed Grimmjow into a sitting position and grabbed the blue haired man’s right arm in his left hand. Flipping the appendage over so that Grimmjow’s bare wrist faced up, he pulled a permanent, fine tipped marker from his pocket and pulled the cap off with his teeth.

Grimmjow watched as his friend made him a fake ID tattoo where he should have had one. They’d done this a hundred times before, having long ago realized it was easier to sneak in if people thought the blue haired man was at least a registered citizen and not a homeless rogue. “What would I do without you guys?” Grimmjow chuckled, leaning back to let Nnoitra work while Nel watched on.

“Never leave the ground.” Nnoitra shot back, his words mumbled a bit as he spoke around the cap clenched between his teeth. He concentrated on what he was doing, keeping the lines of fake identification uniform and patterned after his own tattoo. When he finished, he straightened again and recapped his marker.

“Oh right.” Grimmjow laughed, “Why the hell do I hang out with you guys then? Go away.”

The lanky man smacked him across the back of the head and Grimmjow erupted in loud, barking laughter as he shrugged into the shirt. He buttoned it up and used his left hand to push his drying hair back and out of his face as he lifted his right and studied the fake tattoo he’d been given for the night. His blue brows furrowed, eyes narrowing as he looked at the letters, only half of which he could recognize. 

“Ok, I realize I’m not as good at reading as you more educated and fancy people, but I’m pretty sure that,” He pointed at the first letter of the first line, “is a D and my name starts with a G. What did you call me this time?”

Nel sent Nnoitra a slight glare and grabbed Grimmjow’s hand to read what the taller male had written. “It’s a B.” She corrected, before what had been written really sank in. “Nnoi! You can’t write that!”

“Says Bottom Dweller, coz if we didn’t drag you from the ground, that’s exactly what you’d turn into.” Nnoitra laughed, his grin wide and flashing blunt teeth. “And of course I can write that!” He turned to Nel and hissed back at her. “No one’s gonna read it, they’ll see the dark ink and let him through when he flashes that shit eating, heart breaking grin a his.”

It was Grimmjow’s turn to bark a laugh, un-offended and amused by it all. And hey, Nnoitra kind of had a point. Barely half an hour later, the three were hurrying through the building, rushing up stair cases and running by other citizens as they worked their way higher and higher. Grimmjow led the way, an expert at avoiding policing authority figures that would normally be in charge of keeping the lower class where they were supposed to be. They darted out onto balconies, sprinted across coverless walkways to other buildings, and continued their upward journey.

He slowed their pace just in time to catch their breath as they made it to the two hundred and thirty-third floor. Walking with all the confidence in the world, like he lived in and owned the high rise building they were trespassing in, Grimmjow plastered his usual grin across his handsome features as he sauntered toward the low railing that acted as a sort of worthless barricade to mark the boundaries of the VIP event. His sharp eyes scanned the already thick crowd, searching for guards before he casually hopped the fence and stuffed his hands into his pockets once he hit the ground on the other side. Nel and Nnoitra followed his lead.

There were people all around them, some of which whispered and pointed, but the three paid them hardly any attention. Working his way more towards the middle of the large, high ceilinged, ballroom style space, Grimmjow not so accidently bumped into a man about his size, though slimmer. Apologizing words that seemed far too polite for the normally surely man and giving a small but well balanced and formed bow, Grimmjow backed away and excused his feigned clumsiness. The man he’d bumped into waved the accident off with cold indifference and turned back toward where he was headed and Grimmjow grinned as he opened his hand and began wrapping the brilliant, silver admittance band he’d stolen around his own wrist. The name on it wasn’t his, nor did it match the fake, pitiful excuse of a name written on his wrist or any of the numbers there, but no one would notice, they’d see the silver color and think him a member of the tall districts and so not bother him. Anything he chose to buy with the band would be charged to the tab of the poor guy he’d stolen it from and by the time the man realized he was being charged for things he hadn’t boughten, Grimmjow and his friends would be long gone, back in the short districts.

Nnoitra and Nel didn’t bother with a band, if they decided they wanted or needed anything during the party, they only needed to ask their friend and Grimmjow would happily secure it for them.

Together, the three wandered through the crowds in a state just short of awe. Around them, the large space was nearly the size of a city block and isles were mapped out like roads, with carts and stalls on either side and venders trying to sell their food and wares. Wonderful smells of foods and perfumes wafted through the air and colors danced through the space, rich fabrics and banners. Working through the crowds, jesters and costumed performers juggled and preformed magic tricks or put on small shows.

The ceiling high above was arching and elegant, carved with intricate spires and statues along the pillars. Mirrored windows lined the domed roof and wrapped around the rounded main hall, showing as the sun dipped below the horizon and lit the blue sky in fiery and brilliant colors. It was a sight the three weren’t privy to often.

They’re own clothing was less than apt compared to the expensively tailored cloths of those around them, the higher class citizens that actually resided in the upper floors of the skyscrapers. But there were so many people around and various things to keep everyone sufficiently distracted and entertained, that Grimmjow and his friends went mostly unnoticed.

Nel pointed toward one particular vender, her large eyes going wide and soft. Displayed on the immaculately clean and well kept cart, candies and chocolate treats had been arranged in various colors and prices. Nelliel made a sound of want and pouted, “Wha! They all look so good! How do these people afford these things though?”

Grimmjow smirked and flashed her a wide grin, “They’re rich bastards, Nel, they could buy the entire scraper your home is in if they wanted to.” But he marched up to the vender and picked the biggest piece of pink rock candy the merchant had and flashed his sliver wrist band. The vender rang him up, scanning the barcode on the wrist band and thanked a Master Kuchiki.

The blue haired young man nodded, sweeping into a slight bow as he gave the vender a sly wink. “Only the best for the lovely lady.”

The man wrapped up the purchased candy and gave “Master Kuchiki” a knowing smirk in return, readily agreeing as his eyes panned over Nelliel’s form in a telling way.

Nel blushed bright red but took the candy as Grimmjow handed it over and they continued on their way. She smacked the big male playfully but eagerly unwrapped the treat and thanked him. Making their way toward an area that wasn’t quite so heavily crowded, they found an empty bench situated in a grassy median, pretty flowers and low shrubs growing in the small but well manicured area, and sat down as Nelliel enjoyed her treat.

People walked by, talking amongst themselves and carrying bags filled with their most recent purchases. “Thank you, Mr. Kuchiki.” Nel sang with dripping sarcasm. “Do we even know who that is?”

“Nope, just another upper class old geezer that likes spending money on pretty girls.” Grimmjow told her, grabbing hold of the wrist of the hand she held her candy in. He tugged her hand toward himself, “But you’re welcome. So you gonna share?”

“Hah, you wish.” She jerked her hand and the candy away, giving the blue haired man a smug smile. A crunch turned her smile into a look of horror as her head whipped around and her eyes landed on Nnoitra, seated on her other side and now chewing the top part of the bright pink rock candy. “Nnoi!”

The two men burst into loud laughter as a pout settled across pretty features. Nel stuck the candy in her mouth, holding it with her teeth so her hands were free, and smacked the back of Grimmjow’s and Nnoitra’s heads simultaneously in retribution. Both ducked forward, hands going to the abused spot as they turned glares on the young woman seated between them. That smug smile worked it’s way back across Nel’s features as she leaned back on the bench and began enjoying the rare treat once more.

They missed as depthless, brown eyes shown with mirth, trained in their direction, and a smirk interrupted the usual scowl that adorned boyishly handsome features. Ichigo quickly averted his attention back to his talking friends as two of them bickered back and forth, leaving him walking off to the side of them and left out of the conversation. He could tell, just by looking at the three nameless citizens on the bench that they didn’t belong there, probably from the middle districts. But it didn’t concern him, so what should he care if poorer people were sneaking their way into the fete. He continued on like he hadn’t seen them as he and his group of friends drifted passed.

They may have missed the lad’s attention, but Grimmjow didn’t miss as the high standing young man walked by. His brilliant, swirling blue eyes landed on the slim figure, taking in the rich fabric his tailored pants were made of and the slim hips and long legs they hid. Gaze traveling up, he was gifted the sight of a deep violet shirt that hugged the young man’s lean upper body and finally, obscenely orange, untamed hair. 

Blue brows arched slightly, Grimmjow’s head turned to follow as the lad that was clearly from the tall distracts walked by, finally interrupting the small squabble between his friends with an upraised hand and a few words tumbling from pink lips. At Grimmjow’s side, Nel and Nnoitra both stared at their distracted friend before following his line of sight.

“Oooh no. Don’t even think about it, Grimm.” Nnoitra warned, seeing who and what had caught the big man’s attention. “Do you know who that is?”

A small sneer twisted Grimmjow’s features as he deadpanned at his lanky friend. “How the hell would I know?”

“He held up the hand with his ID on it, blue...” 

But Grimmjow only lifted a single brow in dull inquiry, as if to point out the obvious, “Nnoi... can’t read that well, you know...” He drawled.

Nnoitra rolled his single eye, “He was marked a Class A. That kid wont even recognize you as a living human.”

“Isn’t that the oldest kid of that doctor that owns that big hospital?” Nelliel asked, “Actually, I’m pretty sure he owns the whole medical scraper...”

She received only bland looks of slight confusion.

“Dr. Kuro-something, I think. Kurosaki, maybe?” She shrugged, “Either way, Nnoitra’s right, he’s way too high on the ladder.” Nnoitra nodded in agreement with her.

But Grimmjow didn’t respond and she turned to look at the stubborn man only to find that Grimmjow was already on his feet and headed in the direction that the orange haired lad had disappeared in. He hurried through the crowds, slipping between people and cutting around them as he scanned for bright orange hair. He came to a screeching halt, nearly running a little girl over and almost tripping himself with how fast he stopped his momentum, before jockeying around her and continuing on his way.

“Hey!” He shouted as he finally spotting the color he was looking for. It couldn’t be anyone else, seeing how horrendously and yet perfectly bright that spiky hair was. “Uhh... Kurosaki, wait up!” But if the young man heard him, he made no show of it and continued to navigate through the crowds.

Contrary to what the brash, blue haired man thought, Ichigo heard him just fine and his brows furrowed slightly as he realized the lower class man knew his name.

“Ichigo?” One of the young man’s friends leaned in a bit closer, “Who is that guy? His actions are rather rude and barbaric.”

Ichigo frowned all the harder and shook his head slightly. “I’ve honestly no idea. Why do you think I’m ignoring him?”

He and his friends took a left at the next intersection, heading deeper into the heart of the festivities. Music played from a center stage, live performers entertaining the fete-goers. Ichigo turned slightly to look over his shoulder, wondering if his blue haired stalker would follow. He smirked when he saw the man frown and go straight where he’d turned left. He really was kind of attractive though, in a wild, dangerous sort of way. Not the kind of person he could be seen with.

Still continuing his lazy perusal of the festival grounds, Ichigo split away from his friends under the excuse to get some food, which he fully intended to do, but as he walked by a row of stands, each advertising a different type of food item, he walked right into something solid and living. Jolting in surprise, a hurried apology left his lips as his orange brows rose. His gaze shot back in front of him, to whom he’d collided with, only to come face to face with a dark grey, button up shirt that really did very little to hide the chest below it.

Frown etching back across his features, Ichigo looked higher still and met impossibly blue eyes, their color nearly outshining the sky above on a clear day. “Pardon me, but do I know you?”

“Nope.” The bluenette let a pleased, confident smirk stretch his handsome features and Ichigo fought down the slight reddening in his own.

“Then... I suppose you know me?” He asked, though it seemed rather obvious since the bigger man had been calling his name. His surname, at least. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, I have no idea who you are, actually.” The big man’s voice was like rolling thunder, deep and grating yet smooth as silk.

But Ichigo’s scowl only deepened anyway. Then he rolled those rich, coffee brown eyes of his as if the answer was obvious and tapped his right wrist with his left pointer finger. “Ah. Just very observant than. Again, is there anything I can do for you?”

The man grunted a laugh and shook his head, but Ichigo had no idea which he was denying, if he was indeed denying anything at all. Instead, the bigger man held out his right hand, clearly looking to shake Ichigo’s and introduced himself. “Name’s Grimmjow.”

“Pleasure.” Ichigo half drawled, not taking the offered hand as the beginnings of a sly smirk tried to tug at his lips as his dark eyes lit up with a gleam all of their own. “You don’t belong here, do you, Grimmjow?”

Grimmjow faltered slightly, trying to read the smaller male and figure out just what the other was thinking. He knew the orange haired male was up to something, but what that was, he had no idea. He slowly lowered his hand back to his side as it grew obvious the other, obviously this Kurosaki guy Nel had mentioned, wasn’t going to introduce himself in return. He’d honestly thought introductions were common etiquette, but maybe not amongst the higher classes... 

As he lowered his hand, those commanding brown orbs dropped to glance at his wrist. The fake ID wasn’t visible because of the way his arm was turned and his sleeve was pulled down, but a peek of the borrowed silver band was.

Ichigo smiled an almost sweet, yet playful smile and pointed. “You might want to return that before you get caught.” He cautioned, then turned away and called over his shoulder, “I hope your friend enjoyed her candy, that was very sweet of you.”

Grimmjow frowned, watching him as he retreated. But as the smaller paused next to one of the many guards patrolling the fete, motioned back toward where he’d left Grimmjow, blue eyes went wide and the bigger man turned and ducked down the nearest isle before taking off and away. He yanked the silver band from his wrist as he ran and, passing by an unfortunate man, he once more accidently bumped into a random stranger. Apologizing, he bowed slightly and turned to keep going, leaving the stolen band in the stranger’s pocket and disappearing around another turn.

After a few minutes of hurried search, he found Nelliel and Nnoitra and rushed up behind them. They jumped in surprise as he clapped his hands against their shoulders and turned them toward the nearest exit. “Time to go.” He announced, voice low as they moved.

“What?” Nel turned toward him with a slightly worried expression, but didn’t pause or try to stop. “Already?”

“What’d you do this time? Get yourself in trouble again?” Nnoitra chuckled.

But this time around, Grimmjow wasn’t laughing about it. “Just did something really fucking stupid.” He grumbled in answer, taking a sharp veer through the merchant carts and around street performers. “Hurry up.”

They rounded another section of venders and Grimmjow stopped dead as he watched a group of guards debrief another unit. One was busy directing others, holding his hand up a little above himself as he told his men what to look for and described the person they were searching for.

“Dammit.” Grimmjow growled, quickly growing angry. He pulled Nel and Nnoitra around and quickly gave them instructions. “Leave just like any normal couple, got it? I don’t think they’ll be looking for you guys.”

He started to back away, his eyes glancing toward the guards, but his lanky friend caught hold of his arm. “What about you?”

Grimmjow let a cocky grin crease his angular features, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll meet you below.” And with that, he took off, quickly disappearing in the crowd like he hadn’t been standing there with them at all.

Nnoitra shook his head and sighed, but he grabbed Nel’s hand and turned around. They walked right through the main exit, right passed the guards looking for their friend, just like any other couple, before quickly taking off down floor after floor toward Nelliel’s home and ultimately where Grimmjow would likely show up.

Still in the ballroom styled area where the fete was being held, Grimmjow let out a deep rumble of laughter as he skidded around a corner and tore off down another isle, guards attempting to keep up. He already knew just where he’d be making his escape -and it wasn’t a guarded doorway- but first he wanted a word with a certain orange haired Mr. Kurosaki.

He found who he was looking for a few minutes later, the smaller male once again surrounded by the friends he didn’t really seem to say much to. Like he had with Nnoitra and Nelliel, Grimmjow ran right up behind him. He hooked one arm over Ichigo’s shoulders as the orange haired male jerked in surprise, a small squeak of startlement escaping him. The bigger man grinned, his features close to Ichigo’s own, and rumbled in that shiver-worthy voice of his. 

“Nice meeting you,” He told the smaller, still not knowing what the young man’s first name was. “Thanks for the heads up, Little Birdie, but the guards in the tall districts are pretty worthless and outta shape.”

He laughed as brown eyes went wide, then daringly pressed a quick and mostly innocent kiss to the smaller’s temple before releasing him and continuing his run, all before the guards could catch up to him. A moment later, said guards rushed passed Ichigo and his friends as the group stood stunned and motionless, staring after the odd, blue haired man.

Grimmjow rounded another bend and doubled back. When he reached the gated off boundaries of the block, he hurdled over and rushed straight for the balcony that would lead him to the outside and, should he fall, to his death. The guards screamed orders for him to stop, their shouts loosing the commanding tones and gaining ones of disbelief as Grimmjow ran right up to the railing with no signs of slowing. He braced his hands on the just over waist hight rail and pushed himself up and over, dropping from sight. The guards reached the rail just in time to realize he’d caught the very bottom of the balcony and swung himself under, to land on the floor of the balcony that sat a level below.

The blue haired man grinned, saluted up at them, and turned to take off back into the building, now a full floor below his pursuers.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning was a quiet one, early before everything opened up and the day officially began. The small cafe had yet to actually open it’s doors to that day’s customers, but the owner had made a deal with a particular young man earlier that year and Ichigo sat in his favorite seat, outside on the large platform that over hung the space beside the tall building. From the small, round table that sat beside the plush and comfortable chair he sat in, he pulled a cup of tea, freshly brewed just for him. He put the book and papers he’d been scanning through down, laying them across his lap as he sipped the tea and gave the worker a small but grateful smile.

This was his favorite part of the day. It was early enough that most of the massive city around him was still asleep and everything was bathed in the soft but brilliant light of the rising sun. The silence was comforting, like a calm melody all of it’s own. There was no one to bother him, no one to expect things of him, no one to impress or keep up appearances with. He could sit, drink his tea, and look over his sisters’ homework for them in peace.

He realized it was mostly his status that allowed him this privilege; the privilege of arriving at his favorite cafe an hour before it officially opened. But the manager and a few employees had to be in even before the early hour to begin readying everything for the day, so after he’d offered to pay the fee that would normally accompany reserving a table, they’d agreed to let him in and he’d been making an appearance nearly every morning since. The same employee waited on him nearly every morning and the young woman didn’t even bother to ask what he’d like to order anymore. He walked in, showed himself through the empty cafe, unlocked the sliding glass door that led out to the outdoor section, and took his balcony seat. A few minutes later, the young lady would arrive with his favorite tea in a blue cup because he liked the blue more than the white cups they used. She would greet him with a smile and ask how his morning was and he would smile in return and tell her it’d just gotten much better before turning to the assignments his younger sisters had worked on the night prior.

Then she’d go back about her other duties until she saw that he needed a refill or had decided upon breakfast. Ichigo didn’t know her name and he really didn’t care to learn it. He tipped her well for putting up with him so early in the morning and he was certain that was the reason she was always so friendly and cheery with him, never mind that she surely knew of who he was. Or at least who his father was. Everyone knew who is father was.

Isshin Kurosaki, Ichigo’s father, was the city’s most renowned physician. The man not only owned his own hospital, but he owned the entire skyscraper the hospital was located in. The entire building, save for the very top floor and obviously the bottom few that were left empty, was dedicated to medicine and medical technology. Every type of medical related services could be found there; emergency rooms, physicians, family practice, ob/gyn, facilities that specialized in surgery, in military wounds, sports doctors, in plastic surgery, physical therapy and rehabilitation, even limb replacement and artificial organs. 

And Dr. Kurosaki oversaw the entirety of it. He hand selected who was good enough to work in his medic-scraper and he even participated in some of the surgeries and consultations. Isshin and his three children were among the only citizens granted a Class A status, the ranking usually reserved for government personnel. So whatever Ichigo wanted, Ichigo could get.

Yet all he wanted was to sit and enjoy himself in the peaceful quiet that came with solitude. He had a doting family and countless friends, but he preferred to leave them behind while he sat and enjoyed his mornings, the schoolwork he helped with, and his tea. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his friends or his family, or even his life. It was simply that always having everyone’s attention on you, looking up at you, knowing who you were and knowing what was expected of you, was all very exhausting at times. And Ichigo wasn’t so sure he wanted what everyone else wanted for him, what his father expected of him. Sure, he loved medicine and medical practice: it was fascinating stuff, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily his first choice in how to spend the rest of his life. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to inherit his father’s empire.

The young man, bright orange hair catching the brilliant light as the sun’s rays stretched through the sky, sighed and looked out over the city. The cafe he frequented was high up in the city, meant for only the most wealthy of the tall districts, and so he was afforded quite the view. Below, should he lean over the glass and metal railing of the outdoor section, he would see nothing but blackness and the few lights that remained on through out the night, still much too early for the sun to begin illuminating the middle districts, let alone the short. Looking up revealed the lightening sky, a few harmless clouds drifting on the lazy breeze and still a few of the very brightest stars visible toward the darker horizon. But looking out, between the towering skyscrapers, between the metal and concrete and glass, he watched as the sun rose along the skyline. The city stretched on for countless miles, a never ending vista of manmade columns that covered the Earth, but from the little cafe Ichigo loved so much, the sunrise could still be watched. The cafe sat at just the right angle, on just the right building, on the right side, that he could still enjoy such a pleasure and his view was mostly unhindered by the ever present buildings around him and the shadows they created.

He ignored as his phone buzzed for the fourth time where it sat on the glass-topped table beside him. He sighed, knowing who it surely was, and took another sip of his tea. A few minutes later, the quietly shrill ring of the cafe’s main line rang, muffled through the sliding glass doors that shut the outdoor section away from the indoor seating. Orange brows furrowed, a light but characteristic and common scowl settling upon handsome, boyish features.

Not a moment later, his waitress poked her head out of the main cafe to look at him. “It’s your father, sir.” She said, her tone polite and quiet in the even quieter early morning air.

Ichigo sighed yet again, “Of course it is.”

“He says he’s been trying to reach you all morning, and that he requires your assistance. It sounded urgent...” Everyone knew who Dr. Kurosaki was, and so the girl surely knew what the call was about, and knew that the younger Mr. Kurosaki was due at the OR, where a patient must have awaited his care.

Ichigo hadn’t actually operated on anyone just yet, still learning and growing into the role he had been groomed for since he was a just a boy, but he often accompanied his father into the OR, playing the part of knowledgeable assistant and obedient son. The young man stood, settling his tea back down on the table with the soft clank of porcelain on glass, and headed toward the doors the young woman stood at. He walked right passed her, through the sliding doors, and up to the counter, where the manager hurried over to ring him up and cash him out. The tattoo on his wrist was scanned and processed, money transferred over and a hefty tip that would go directly to the waitress’s account added to the transaction.

“Tell him I’m on my way.” He said, declining the phone being offered to him and knowing his father was on the other end. Ichigo politely thanked the manager and his waitress and left the cafe. The manager pulled the phone back to his ear to relay the message as Ichigo disappeared from their shop and into the skyscraper.

••••

At very nearly the same time, hundreds of feet lower and in a building that neighbored the one Ichigo’s favored cafe was located in, Grimmjow crossed his arms over his muscled chest. A grin played at his features and he put the slightest bit of effort into subduing it, but even still, the swirl to his crystalline blue eyes was unmistakable. Leaning back against a support beam in the middle of one of the many abandoned corridors of the short districts, he watched Nelliel and Nnoitra try their damnedest to be mad at him.

“You can’t do that sort of thing!” Nel’s chastising was a low tone in the early morning quiet, but the emphasis and force in her words was still there. She really did look worried, and Grimmjow didn’t blame her.

He’d come home awfully late the night prior, after having to unexpectedly dump them and make them leave the party without him. It hadn’t entirely been his fault, but he should have known better than to approach someone with such a high standing so openly and brashly. His friends had been berating him for it pretty much since they’d woken up to find him sound asleep with a smirk on his face, comfortable on Nel’s couch.

But his pretty little birdie, that Kurosaki kid, hadn’t exactly seemed all that malicious about his attack. Sure, he’d called the guards on Grimmjow...but there had been a playful ring to it, an amusement in those expressive brown eyes. He’d even given warning before he’d done it.

“Sneaking up into a tall district party is dangerous enough, Grimmjow... What do you think they would have done if that kid had pressed harassment charges, or told them you’d been stealing, rather than simply telling them you hadn’t been invited?”

A bit of a sneer finally interrupted Grimmjow’s amusement. “I wasn’t harassing him.”

“You’re trash ta him. He’s so far above us-” Nnoitra interjected, earning a glare from his big friend as well as from Nel. He threw his hands up in surrender and went quiet again.

“I wasn’t harassing him.” Grimmjow insisted, dragging his glare away from Nnoitra and back towards Nel. “And so what? What would they have done if by some chance they had caught me?” He spread his arms out, motioned around them, “Not like I got much for them to take.”

The woman sighed and something pulled at her features. He friend was reckless beyond necessity. He didn’t even seem to realize it most of the time. “They could lock you up.”

Grimmjow snorted a derisive sound, curling his lip. Then, in a mumble, “They’d have to catch me first.”

Nel shook her head, knowing it wasn’t a point worth arguing. “Nnoi’s right, Grimmjow.” She insisted, despite not liking how Nnoitra had phrased his point. “You weren’t exactly leaving him alone, and you know how some people are... You got lucky. This could have been a lot worse than just you getting back late.”

“Whatever.” Grimmjow curled his lip and pushed away from where he’d been leaning, his mood far worse than it had been the night before or even when he’d been woken up that morning. He pushed passed Nelliel and Nnoitra, and crossed the shadowed corridor to disappear through a worn, doorless portal.

Nnoitra sighed and watched him head deeper into the building, heading towards ground level, no doubt. “This ain’t the last of this.”

“No, not at all.” Nel agreed. They both knew the big man too well. When Grimmjow set his sights on something - or in this case, someone - nothing would keep him from it. He was stubborn to the point of reckless and one of these days, it would get him in trouble.

“To be fair,” Nnoitra mumbled as he and Nel turned back in the direction that would lead them back to her home, “the kid was pretty cute. Definitely Grimmjow’s type.”

Nel rolled her eyes, “That’s not the point.”

Swiftly making his way through the building’s underbelly, taking the same path he’d taken countless times before, Grimmjow fumed as he stormed from the scraper. He burst from the confines of walls and a ceiling like he’d been suffocating, and only paused when he’d gone several meters away from the building and stood on open, flat ground. The dirt was gritty and dry below his boots, tangles of long, wild grass dotting the areas were sun shown down strong enough to nourish it. He took a deep breath, head tilted back and eyes closed, and blew it out as a weary sigh.

He knew Nelliel and Nnoi were only trying to help him, protect him even, but contrary to what they seemed to think, he knew what the hell he was doing. He also knew he wouldn’t be leaving the orange haired young man alone for long. There was something about him that had drawn Grimmjow to him the moment his incredibly blue eyes had landed on the boy.

They were so incredibly different, he and the boy from the party. At least at first glance. The Kurosaki kid was a high standing citizen, he soared above the crowd, even higher than most in the tall districts. While Grimmjow was quite literally a street rat. He didn’t have a family, no home of his own. He lived in the short districts and usually crashed at a friend’s place, if he bothered to even come indoors for the night.

The orange haired kid was like a bird. He was free, could have anything he wanted and go anywhere he wanted, but he was surrounded by wireframe structures and constrained to what everyone around him saw. He was caged by the illusion of freedom. Grimmjow was the opposite. He was a rat, and certainly didn’t have wings. No one knew Grimmjow, no one saw him. He had no money, could barely get by most days, but he didn’t have to worry about what those around him thought of him. There was nothing to hold him back and no cage could keep him in.

After a moment of simply breathing in the fresh air, Grimmjow stuffed his hands in the pockets of his worn, faded jeans and cast a quick glance around before he walked from the shadows of the building he’d emerged from. Looking up, he couldn’t hope to catch sight of the object of his thoughts, but the rising sun glinted off the glass windows in the buildings high above, a vibrant orange that nearly matched. 

No, he decided, no matter what Nnoitra and Nel warned against, he had not seen the last of his pretty little birdie.

••••

In order to leave the scraper he was currently in, he would have to go down a flight of stairs to where the nearest and most conveniently located bridge was at. The covered walkway would lead him from the building the cafe was located in, to the one next to it, where he would board a shuttle that would stop near his father’s hospital.

It was a practiced route, one he navigated nearly everyday. Sometimes multiple times a day. So he hardly paid any attention as he tucked his sister’s textbook under his arm, the paper she’d written folded neatly inside, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He made his way down the staircase with smooth, easy strides. Because of the early hour, he only passed a few other people and his walk was mostly a quiet one.

He kept his head down as he traversed the memorized path, following corridors and walkways he’d long grown accustomed to. It wasn’t until he was standing upon the conveyer-belt like walkway that he realized he wasn’t quite as alone as he’d thought. He frowned as his surname was called out. There was no honorific added to it, though, no show of respect or title.

Ignoring it, Ichigo arched an orange brow just slightly and looked straight ahead. The few people around him, also riding the bridge to the next building over, murmured as they gave him sidelong, disapproving glances.

Not a moment later, the big, blue haired man from the party came up beside him. The man paused, falling quiet as he looked around a bit, then back to Ichigo with an infuriating grin.

“I see you’re not in jail.” Ichigo muttered, not quite petulantly, but lowly. He refused to look at the man, refused to even greet him or make a show of acknowledging his presence.

Grimmjow didn’t seem deterred though, nor offended. “Nah,” He replied, crossing his arms smugly over his muscled chest. 

In the early morning sun, tan skin shown nearly golden. The threadbare shirt he donned, worn and old but not dirty, did little to hid what laid below. As if its sad state wasn’t bad enough, it stretched tight across his shoulders and back and the neckline was stretched, hanging low enough to show off the big man’s strong neck and prominent collarbones.

Brown eyes flickered his way oh so briefly, following the easy motion, and Grimmjow’s grin grew even more smug. “Told you at the party, tall district guards are useless.” He continued.

“Apparently.” Ichigo scoffed, dragging his gaze away.

They stood in silence for a moment, and Ichigo couldn’t help but notice how a few of the people around him put a bit more distance between themselves and him and the short district citizen. Yet again, the blue haired man seemed not to notice. His impossibly blue gaze never wavered from Ichigo’s form, like he saw nothing else. It was nearly maddening. There was so much weight in that glance, so much compelling strength. Ichigo wondered if those eyes could see straight through his skin, down to his bones, the cage of his ribs, if they could see what everyone around him could not.

But of course, that was silly.

He sighed a quietly irritated sound, shifting his stance but still not moving to face the bigger man, “Is there some reason you’re seeking me out yet again?”

Grimmjow gave a one shouldered shrug, “You’re a good lookin’ guy.”

Handsome, scowling features flushed as Ichigo sputtered a bit, trying to decide what to say. He settled for something that was supposed to come off as neutral and unaffected, but rather sounded embarrassed and scathing. “So you stalk any guy you happen to find attractive?”

“Nah,” Grimmjow’s grin didn’t waver, seeing through the act. He uncrossed one arm, raising his hand to gently pinch the tips of bright orange hair between his thumb and forefinger, “Only the prettiest little ones that try to hide behind scowls and bedroom eyes.”

Ichigo’s flush deepened as he smacked the man’s hand away. “O-oh, that’s great. Just lovely.” Ichigo scoffed, once more reigning in his composure and redirecting his attention away from the stranger, “You really are a stalker. Leave me alone.”

By this point, they were nearing the end of the walkway, where they would have to enter the next scraper over and Ichigo would be boarding his shuttle to meet up with his father. Blue eyes glanced over toward the gaping entrance, quickly scanning for any potential trouble in the form of guards.

“No...” He drawled slowly, smirking again as he turned his attention back to the smaller male at his side, “I’m trying to get to know you. You’re just not makin’ it easy on me.”

“Why would I?” Ichigo questioned, his tone returning to a quiet, dignified volume, low enough that those around him wouldn’t hear.

“Because you like me.”

And if Ichigo thought he’d finally begun to regain his normal pallor, he was wrong. His face heated up again as he pursed his lips into a thin line. “I don’t even know you-”

“Ah! Now you’re catchin’ on!” Grimmjow interrupted, brows raising as his grin widened further again, “So, we should change that.”

Ichigo snorted, rolling brown eyes. His features were still hot, he could feel the blush that stained his cheekbones, but he did his best at ignoring it. “You wish.” He stated as they stepped from the moving walkway and into the building. The shuttle was already there, ready to board.

“Yes, very much so.” Grimmjow agreed, following the smaller young man all the way up to the doors of the shuttle. “So, what do you say?” He called through the parted doors.

There was no reply forthcoming as he watched Kurosaki board and take a seat.

A bit of disappointment bubbled up in his stomach as the doors closed and the electric engine started up. Not a moment later, the shuttle pulled away. Grimmjow watched it as it went by. He missed the little smile that tugged at pink lips as Ichigo, seated within, turned in his seat a bit to watch out one window as the bigger man turned and headed back toward the walkway, in the direction they’d come from originally.

Just as he’d thought; the man from the short distracts had come only to find him and with no other purpose in mind. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about that, amused, perhaps. He knew what he should have thought about it. He should have been offended, disgusted even. He should be calling the police. Ichigo was a high standing citizen, a class A. He was considered important, even at his youthful age. If he called the police like he should have, he’d end up with an escort without question. The blue haired man, Grimmjow as he’d called himself, wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near him without being arrested.

But that wasn’t what Ichigo did. Instead, he tried not to let a small smile worm its way across his features as he went about his day. He met with his father, where he donned a lab coat, rubber gloves and a medical mask as they went to work.

The older Kurosaki was of course upset in his son’s tardiness, but his lecture didn’t last long in the face of Ichigo’s apparent good mood. Isshin had expected the young man to drag himself into the clinic with his usual scowl and bored dullness to brown eyes. Imagine his surprise when his son actually almost looked happy and the smile he flashed their patient before administering anesthesia was far closer to genuine than usual.

That afternoon, after the surgery he’d aided, Ichigo left his father’s skyscraper watching for blue hair out of the corner of his eyes. He should have been relieved when he found no sign of the stranger, but part of him was a little disappointed. Though, what had he honestly expected? He’d been cooped up in the OR for hours and the bigger male surely had a life of his own, things to do.

So Ichigo boarded the shuttle that would take him to the main exit of the medic-scraper and pulled out his phone. The device powered up immediately, having one of the very best solar-powered batteries money could buy. He hardly ever actually set it out to let it charge, it practically charged in his hand on a sunny day.

Pulling up the contacts list, Ichigo highlighted a few names and sent a message out, inviting a few friends out for a late lunch at one of his favorite restaurants. It just so happened that the restaurant he chose was in the same building that his favored cafe was in as well. The very building he’d run into his stalker a few times now.

The restaurant was housed in a large, almost warehouse looking section of the building. The lighting was dim, but not dark and candles added a bit of class to the tables. A fancy bar rounded the back wall and the front that faced people walking by was made of large, metal framed, glass windows. The floors were wooden and styled like an old theater, with a few different levels that were accessible by short staircases. The walls were a deep gray color, the ceiling painted black.

Less than an hour later, the orange haired young man sat at a round table on the lowest level, in a corner where there was a bit of privacy but still near the front windows. Surrounded by half a dozen other people his age, Ichigo sat with his back facing the window, relaxed back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other. He sipped his beer as they all gathered round, eating expensive food, laughing and conversing around him. Occasionally, even Ichigo cracked a smile, throwing something into the conversation.

Maybe an hour later, one of Ichigo’s friends leaned across the table and tapped Ichigo’s shoulder to gain his attention. The orange haired lad set his beer down, nodding to a different friend as he leaned closer to the one seeking his attention, before finally turning to face the other male with slightly raised brows.

“Ichigo, isn’t that the cretin that assaulted you at the fete the other night?”

Ichigo’s brows rose higher before he could gather his wits enough to hide his reaction. He didn’t turn right away though, waiting a few moments before carefully looking over his shoulder. True to what his friend said, a familiar head of blue hair stood out amongst the evening crowd of people traversing the building. It was pretty obvious the man didn’t belong amongst them, but the ease in his step and his stance didn’t show that he actually realized he wasn’t like those around him.

“No,” Ichigo said, turning back to his table of friends, “Kind of resembles him, but I don’t think it’s the same man. Besides, I was assured the guards caught him, so that creep’s surely in jail by now.”

Ignoring the feel of impossibly blue eyes crawling across his skin, Ichigo went back to his previously interrupted conversation like nothing had happened and there wasn’t a stranger staring at him. He spent the rest of his evening only half aware of his friends, his attention split away from them in favor of the man he knew was waiting for him out side of the restaurant.

Under the excuse of picking up the group’s tab, his treat for the impromptu gathering, Ichigo was the last of his friends to leave. He purposely took his time in sauntering up to the bar to pay, waited in line despite that his class A status would have easily allowed him to cut to the front, and even refrained from rolling his eyes as the woman scanning his ID fumbled and apologized when she had to start over in order to complete the transaction. By the time he was finished paying, the rest of his crew had filtered out and were nowhere in sight.

But when he made it through the restaurant doors, a strange, blue haired man was.

Ichigo pretended not to even notice the man as he swept passed where the big man sat on a bench nearby. He walked with the dignity demanded of his high status, his back straight and his posture perfect. As he passed by the bench, the stranger stood and fell in line behind him, his posture much looser, more relaxed. Ichigo ignored his very existence. Or at least tried to.

“I see how ya are, birdie,” Grimmjow didn’t miss the slight crinkle to orange brows as he spoke the little pet name. He smiled, “ignoring the lowly peasant that I am. You rich types are all the same, after all.”

That got a reaction, albeit a small one. Ichigo snorted the quietest of sounds, but still didn’t look at the bigger male.

Grimmjow’s smile grew wider. “So,” he drawled, kicking his feet up lazily into longer strides. He brought himself in front of the smaller, higher standing male and spun so that he walked backwards, facing the young Kurosaki, his hands tucked into his pockets and that heart-breaking smile plastered on his lips. “you never did give me a real answer, ya know.”

Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, and Grimmjow thought he would actually get an answer for a moment. Until, that is, a single orange brow arched and Ichigo closed his mouth again to hum a small sound. Only then did the higher class boy speak, “How do you even keep finding me?”

Grimmjow laughed a short sound, “Well, you’re not exactly hiding from me, now are you?” His only forthcoming response was a small snort but it was enough to confirm what Grimmjow had guessed: the Kurosaki kid didn’t actually want him to stay away. “Sooo?” He prompted.

“Hmm...” Ichigo pursed his lips and shook his head a bit, putting on an act despite that deep, brown eyes were starting to thaw a bit, maybe even show a bit of mirth. He rolled up the sleeves of his tailored button-up, careful to turn his wrists to face outward and make it look as natural as possible. The tiniest of smiles twitched onto his lips for the briefest of moments when he watched blue eyes flash towards the dark ink of his ID tattoo. Of course, he didn’t let Grimmjow see his small show of approval.

He altered his course a bit as they walked, never really looking directly at the still backward facing man in front of him, as he pretended to hesitate and think about Grimmjow’s request. His cocoa colored eyes shone just a little brighter as he glanced at the small, walkway-side vender’s cart he’d angled them towards.

Still walking backwards and facing the boy that had caught his fancy, Grimmjow didn’t see the seller until he was already upon it and because he was far too enthralled by the man he was seeking the attention of, he didn’t hear the seller’s calls either. He backed right into a man very nearly his own size, tripping up and nearly crashing to the floor, knocking the vender with him.

Ichigo watched crystallin eyes grow wide with surprise and startlement as it happened, before Grimmjow made a clumsy spin to catch his balance. The bigger male reached out, not only bracing himself, but the vender he’d ran into as well, apologizing and juggling the bright bouquet of flowers the knocked from the other’s arms by accident, their vase glass and well beyond anything Grimmjow could ever hope to pay damages for should it fall and shatter.

Ichigo sucked in a breath as he watched, wincing as he waited for the inevitable crash. To his surprise, as the vender screamed unhappy curses at the street rat of a young man, Grimmjow managed to get a firm grip on the vase before it could hit the ground. He’d even managed to keep most of the flowers within in their original arrangement.

Before he could catch himself, Ichigo grinned and let out a small laugh. Then he faltered, as if remembering that he wasn’t supposed to like this boy, and wiped the smile from his features. Returning to something neutral and a little bored, he quickly continued walking, leaving Grimmjow behind to apologize and look like a fool on his own.

He was unsurprised when only a few moments went by before his shadow was back. Grimmjow sidled up next to him, almost hovering at his side for a minute, a handsome smirk on his equally good looking features and his hands behind his back, before he repeated what he’d done only minutes ago, and moved to walk in front of Ichigo, backwards.

Ichigo shook his head a bit, wondering if the bigger man was just asking for another dose of the same humiliation. To his surprise, however, Grimmjow stopped dead and the smaller, not expecting the sudden halt, ran right into him with a small “Oof.” His features tinted red as his hands automatically came up to brace his impact, spreading across firm pectorals, the warmth of the big man’s skin noticeable even through his thin shirt.

Grimmjow just grinned that devil’s grin down at him.

Ichigo jerked his hands away and cleared his throat, trying desperately to regain his composure and lose the blush threatening to heat his features. Then he backed up and couldn’t help but mentally take note that this was the second time he’d ran into the man and damn was his body very solid. Before he could actually look up though, something bright and purple was in his face.

Bringing his hands from behind his back, Grimmjow presented the single, violet flower he’d lifted from the vender as he’d handed back the vase he nearly broke. He chuckled as the smaller went a little cross-eyed trying to look at the flower suddenly in his face. Cute... The flush to handsome, boyish features was back in full and Grimmjow’s smile widened all the further. He didn’t have to say a word.

Refusing to admit to himself that he was giving in, Ichigo took the flower. Under the guise of studying it for a moment more, he took a steadying breath, before finally directing his gaze up and taking in full brunt of blue. He stood speechless for a second, before quickly sidestepping around the man to continue on his way.

“Very well.” He said, back to being a dignified, rich citizen of the tall districts and not a flustered young lad. He kept the flower though, holding it almost carefully as he twirled the long, green stem. “I have tea every morning at the cafe two stories higher, on the western corner of this same tower. Six-thirty. If you’re late, I wont wait for you.”

He left Grimmjow standing alone in the middle of the crowded shopping area, grinning like he’d lost his mind. The bigger man watched him go for a few moments, until he disappeared in the crowd, then he spun on his heel and, overjoyed smile never wavering, took off in the opposite direction and toward nearest set of stairs that would lead down.

Bright and early the next morning, before his favored cafe officially opened its doors, Ichigo stood just before the entrance. The furrow to his brow was deeper than usual as he glanced at the clock on his phone for what was at least the twelfth time. It was ten till seven in the morning and the blue haired asshole was late.

With a displeased sigh, Ichigo turned and, shaking his head slightly, walked through the doors that had been opened for him twenty minutes ago. It would have been a lie had he said he wasn’t disappointed, but he told himself he shouldn’t be surprised. The bigger man was from the short districts, he didn’t belong this far in the sky. He didn’t belong anywhere near Ichigo and the things Ichigo had. Ichigo told himself that he shouldn’t have let a few pushy, charming tricks get to him.

It was easier said than done, however, and he sulked through the cafe’s interior and let himself out onto the balcony area. The fresh air was warm with the rising sun, but not stifling. The leaves of the genetically modified trees that grew in the center of each round table rustled quietly with the slight breeze that wrapped around the buildings.

Only a few moments later, he still stood near the railing, looking out over the city, when the doors that led out to where he was slid open. The waitress that always took care of him greeted him and placed his tea on the table he’d left his sisters’ homework on before taking her leave.

Ichigo snorted a low sound and, scowl still etched across his brow, turned back to the table. He took his usual seat, picked up his tea, and opened the book to begin looking over the childish handwriting scribbled on the sheets of paper he’d placed between the pages.

He wasn’t even half way through his tea when the doors slid open again. He first glanced at his cup, expecting it to be his waitress, but when he realized the cup was still half full, he couldn’t help the slight smile that tried to twitch to life on his lips. He quickly quashed it.

“You’re late.” Ichigo pointed out, keeping his tone controlled and maybe just a little icy. He didn’t look away from the papers in front of him as he took a sip of his tea.

For the first time in their few encounters, Grimmjow actually seemed a little out of place. “Uh, yeah...” He hesitated. The inflection in his deep voice made it obvious he felt bad for not keeping his unspoken word. “My friend was supposed to wake me up, but she over slept too...”

“Not a very good first impression, you know.” Ichigo pressed, still sipping his tea and not turning brown eyes towards the bigger man.

The doors slid open again and he finally looked up as his waitress shyly neared his table. “Umm, could I get you something as well, sir?” She asked, glancing almost unsurely between Ichigo and Grimmjow.

“No, thank y-”

“Yes.” Ichigo interrupted, finally looking at the bigger man. “He’ll have what I’m having.” He eyed Grimmjow a moment longer, like he was studying the man, “Iced, please. Not hot.”

“Yes, sir.” The woman bowed and turned about to go make the requested drink.

Grimmjow turned to the orange haired lad, blue brows furrowing a bit, “Uh... I really- I can’t-”

“The cafe will be open to the public soon and since you were late, we’ll still be here when it does. You’ll stand out even more than you already do if you’re the only one without a purchase.” Ichigo explained, again turning his gaze away. But the coolness in his tone didn’t quite match his next words, as he finally let a small smile tilt his lips. “Consider it my thanks for the flower.”

The small show of gratitude and the reassurance that he hadn’t entirely screwed up brought Grimmjow’s usual confidence back to the forefront of his personality. He grinned, tipped his head a bit, and pulled out a chair to take a seat across the small table from the young man he was in the company of.

The waitress returned a moment later, settling a tall glass before the larger of the two. “Will you and your guest be having breakfast this morning, Mr. Kurosaki?”

“Yes,” Ichigo answered without looking towards the bigger male. 

“Your usual, sir?”

He gave the young lady a charming smile and nodded. “Two of them, please.”

She bowed slightly and scurried off to the fill the order and Ichigo finally closed the book he’d been looking over and turned towards Grimmjow, sipping his tea again. “I’m surprised they let you in.” He said conversationally, “Only I have authorization to dine before opening.”

“They tried telling me I’d have to wait, but,” Grimmjow chuckled, “they didn’t seem to keen on makin’ their esteemed guest, the young Mr. Kurosaki, wait to meet his boyfriend.”

Ichigo started to snort a laugh at the big man’s imitation of politeness and political correctness, only to trip up with the last word to leave the man’s mouth. He very nearly choked on his tea as his features went red. Of course, that only made Grimmjow’s grin grow all the wider. By the time the waitress returned with two steaming plates of food, they truly looked like a young couple; Grimmjow laughing and Ichigo more flustered than the woman had ever seen.

A few people filtered into the cafe as it opened its doors, officially beginning the day, but it was the middle of the week and the crowd remained small. The few to venture out onto the sectioned off, open-air balcony sent glances that ranged from curious to disapproving and even reproach.

They were ignored by both young men and no one seemed willing to actually say anything to them, not when Dr. Kurosaki’s son was involved. So the two enjoyed a peaceful enough breakfast, seated in Ichigo’s most favored spot in all of the city, the sun rising, warm and bright, out behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

It was early in the morning, the sun just barely lighting the horizon and just two days after they’d shared breakfast high above the city. The air outside still clung to the previous night’s chill and steam rose from the mug in elegant hands.

Ichigo knew he wasn’t alone as he sipped his tea. The quiet hiss of sliding glass doors had alerted him to the arrival of his not quite invited guest, but he did what he did best, and pretended the big man wasn’t there, despite that they were alone on the cafe’s balcony. At least he wasn’t late this time, his arrival expected or not.

There was silence for several, long seconds and Ichigo did his best to ignore the feeling of those impossibly blue eyes crawling over him, through him, studying him like they could see everything about him. Then the quiet was broken and the feeling vanished, forcing the slightest of chills to work up Ichigo’s spine.

“Ya know,” The owner of the rough voice stepped from the shadowed doorway. He crossed thick arms over his muscled chest as he leaned against the arched, elegantly crafted metal and brickwork, a smirk on his chiseled features. “For someone with everything and countless friends, you always seem pretty lonely.”

Ichigo snorted a small sound, hardly looking up as he sipped on his favorite tea and flipped a page in the book on the table before him. “I suppose you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?

“Nah, not really. I may not have all the fancy things you do, and only a fraction of the friends, but I’ve never been all that lonely. Or bored.” Grimmjow watched as the smaller man sighed and closed the book he’d been reading, something with a dull, blue cover and scripting font, but he didn’t know what the title said. “Finally going to admit you’re interested in me?”

Ichigo snorted again, perhaps a little more amusement in it this time. This had become a game, like foreplay and he wasn’t fooling anyone, not even himself any more. They both knew the attraction was already there, despite only having been in each other’s company a handful of times. 

He stood from the plush chair where he’d been lounging. “Not likely.” He tucked the book under his arm, cooling tea in his left hand, and turned to head toward the opposite entrance of the small, quaint cafe and away from the bigger man. A faint smile touched his lips as he heard quiet footsteps follow behind him. “Now you’re not only a stalker, but it seems you’re delusional as well. Just my luck.” He sighed.

Grimmjow cracked a grin and chuckled. He unfolded his arms as he pushed away from the wall and followed behind the orange haired lad. As the smaller male walked along beside the glass, metal-framed rail, Grimmjow carelessly hopped up onto it’s top. The barrier was more than strong enough to hold his weight, since it was meant to keep people from walking off the edge of the open-air, outdoor balcony, but the top rail wasn’t even half a foot in width, making it a narrow and precarious place to balance. He lifted his hands from his sides just slightly to help him keep his balance as he trailed at Kurosaki’s side.

From the corner of his eye, Ichigo watched him, his orange brows furrowed just barely over slightly widened eyes. A slight nervousness bubbled in his gut, not that he’d admit to it. “Get down,” He mumbled, “you’re going to fall...”

“Aww~” Grimmjow cooed, his grin growing twofold. As if on cue, he teetered a bit as he walked, still matching the other male’s leisurely pace. He threw his arms out to regain his balance, but his grin never faltered. “And here I thought you didn’t care. How sweet of you, Birdie.”

Ichigo scoffed, adamantly turning his gaze away. His act didn’t fool anyone though, not Grimmjow, and certainly not himself. “I’m not worried. Fall. See how much I would care.”

“That’s cold... C’mon, just admit y-” But the bigger man’s sentence cut off with a deep voiced yelp as he misstepped.

Ichigo gasped and spun, making a grab for him just as the bigger male dropped. Panic welling in his mind and coursing through his trembling body, he threw himself against the railing to look down as his breath caught in his throat and wanted to squeeze out as a small, hitched sound of fright.

He looked down with wide, fearful eyes, his hands in a white knuckled grip on the railing, only to find Grimmjow standing unharmed and steady on the roof of a covered walkway hardly a man’s full hight below. The bigger male grinned up at him, his expression both smug and amused. “What was that about not being worried?”

The higher standing citizen’s features twisted into a repulsed glare as Ichigo curled his lip and held his tea over the edge. Upturning his mug, he dumped the luke warm contents over the taller male and turned from the railing with a less than pleased mutter.

“Ah, dammit!” Grimmjow cursed and wiped at his face with his hands, pushing them back and through his now drenched hair before shaking his arms out, sending a fine spray of droplets across the surface he stood on. “Hey, wait! Wait a second!” He shouted at the smaller man’s retreating figure. People using the walkway below him stared up at him, pointing and wondering who the crazy man standing on the wrong side of the protective glass was. He ignored them, looking back up at the orange haired male as the smaller paused but didn’t turn back around to look at him again. “You still haven’t told me your name...”

At that, Ichigo did turn back around to look at the odd young man, and snorted a derisively amused sound. He sent the blue haired man a narrow eyed look, trying to decide just what he was up to this time. And then it dawned on him that Grimmjow knew his last name, and he’d assumed it was because he’d read the ID tattooed under his wrist at the fete several weeks ago, but if that were the case, Grimmjow should have known his first name too. “How is that you came by my last and not my first?”

“A friend told me... She recognized you as being some doctor’s son.” Grimmjow answered truthfully, voice raised enough to be heard between the distance that separated them.

A bit of a sly expression settled over boyish features, “The girl you stole candy for?”

“Didn’t steal it, I bought it.” Grimmjow countered, grinning up at him through a heavy, blue curtain of soaked hair.

“You stole the bracelet.”

“Borrowed, actually, I gave it back.”

“To it’s original owner?” Of course, Ichigo knew the big man hadn’t delivered it to it’s home. There had been an entire investigation into who had stolen the Kuchiki heir’s account information and bracelet.

“Well... I could have given it to the wrong old man...” Grimmjow rubbed at his neck sheepishly, “I was a little pressed for time, you know.”

Chuckling a bit, though he’d never admit how amusing he found this entire situation now that he knew Grimmjow was unharmed, Ichigo leaned his elbows against the railing, still peering down at his admirer. He was quiet a moment, features slowly taking on a thoughtful expression as he steered their conversation back on track.

“Why have you not just read it yet?” Ichigo called back curiously, holding up his right hand and flashing his tattoo to make his meaning obvious.

He had his speculations about the reason, but part of him felt a little guilty over making the assumption. The big man was in no way stupid, and just because he was less fortunate than Ichigo, didn’t mean he was uneducated. Still, the signs were there and it had been the topic of Ichigo’s curiosity and musing on more than one occasion.

Grimmjow chuckled, but there wasn’t the usual amount of humor in it. He hesitated for only a moment, blue eyes drifting away for a split second, but it wasn’t very like him and so Ichigo picked up on it anyway. “I know you haven’t exactly been hiding it from me, I’m not that dense...but, uh, it doesn’t really do me much good...” His hand ran back through his chaotic blue hair again and he curled his lip a bit at the damp, slightly sticky feel. “I...can’t really read it.”

A mildly shocked expression flitted over Ichigo’s features but it was surprise more from how openly Grimmjow had admitted it, like it only bothered him a moderate amount and he didn’t think it set him apart from anyone else. Then again, Ichigo didn’t really know all that much about his blue haired shadow. Maybe in his everyday life, Grimmjow had no need for the skill, so maybe not being able to read really didn’t set him apart from those he was surrounded by most often.

Setting his glass on the flat top of the railing he looked over, Ichigo pulled the book from under his arm and tugged a few loose sheets of lined paper from under it’s cover. “So learn.” Then he dropped the book over the side and watched Grimmjow scramble forward to catch it before it could thud to the thick glass he stood on. With that, Ichigo turned back around and left, ignoring the shouts for him to wait.

The blue haired man sighed and looked down at the book in his hands. Then sighed again as he turned and began working out how he was supposed to get down from the top of the covered walkway. This hadn’t exactly been his most well thought out idea...

Resourceful as always, he eventually managed to rescale the balcony, practically sprinting through the door, into the cafe’s indoor section and through the front entrance as the manager opened the doors for the morning. The employees and owner stared at him as he went, incapable of missing the wide, pleased grin that took over handsome features as he disappeared. Only an hour later, he was sitting in the corridor out in front of Nel’s home, waiting for her to get back.

Leaning back against the wall next to his friend’s front door, he settled the book in his lap and flipped through pages, frowning at the almost childish nature of the pictures and drawings of various, random objects. A folded sheet of lined paper fell free, fluttering between his legs to land on the gritty tile below him. Arching a brow, he picked it up, setting the book aside for the moment. Unfolding it, he found neat, precise handwriting, the spacing between the words even and the shapes of the letters carefully penned.

Grimmjow frowned curiously as he scanned the paper. To his surprise, he found his name within the first few words and realized he was looking at a handwritten letter from his pretty little birdie. At the very bottom, a name had been signed; two words, surname first in the traditional fashion and then the shorter first name. A bit of a smirk wormed its way across his lips and he folded the paper back up, tucking it away in the book. He hoped Nel didn’t keep him waiting all day.

A few hours later, the woman he was waiting on came walking down the hall. Grimmjow hopped up from where he’d been seated on the floor and there must have been an extra spring to his step as he met her half way to her door because she gave him a bit of an inquisitive look, before her wheat grey eyes were drawn down to the heavy book in his hands. Then the look turned into something closer to a frown, because what would a man who couldn’t read well need with a book?

“Something you found outside?” Nelliel asked, brows arched a bit as she continued walking.

Finding such things was rare. Books especially, because the old paper didn’t hold up well to the elements, but if anyone could manage to scrounge up something of that much value while wandering the near lifeless surface, it was Grimmjow. She vaguely wondered how much it would be worth. What she could see of the heavy cover made it look antique. She’d heard of books that fetched high prices before; copies of tales that had been banned in the old days, or books that had quit being printed even before the paper needed for the pages had become such a precious thing. That was when trees still supposedly grew from the ground and not from buildings in designated spots.

It was a hard thing to imagine, but Grimmjow assured her that he’d found evidence of such trees on his journeys and she believed him.

Grimmjow took a place beside her, and walked her the rest of the distance to her front door. “Nope, haven’t been outside yet today.”

At that, her steps faltered a bit and she turned an appraising eye on the big man. Grimmjow simply grinned back, eagerness showing in his stunning blue eyes. She looked back down at the book in his hands, finally paying it enough attention to realize that while it looked old, it was still in good condition. It had been well taken care of, obviously not something Grimmjow had found outside or lying around the short districts by chance. She asked, “Alright, what’s going on? Where did you get the book?”

If possible, Grimmjow’s grin widened, “It was a gift...kind of...from a certain orange haired boy upstairs.”

Nel wasn’t surprised to hear he’d snuck up into the tall districts again. He’d done it often enough before he’d had something that so thoroughly held his interest. Now, he actually had a reason to do so and it seemed that maybe that reason wasn’t going to be as short with him as Nelliel and Nnoitra had first feared. In all honesty, it was starting to look like the upper class citizen was quite taken with their friend. Or maybe just fascinated by someone so exotic as a handsome man from the poor levels of the city.

She shook her head a bit, hoping Grimmjow knew what he was doing, but knew it was fruitless to try warning him against further outings. Besides, Grimmjow really seemed to like the young man, and he was her friend so she would attempt to be supportive. “You still don’t even know his name, do you?”

“I do! Or... I will,” Grimmjow shrugged and grinned, opening the book’s cover to pull out the sheet of paper again. He handed it over. “as soon as you help me out.”

Nel only half listened as she scanned the top of the paper, taking in neatly written words and elegant but simple handwriting. A small smile slowly spread across her pretty features, before she laughed quietly and handed the paper back. “Sorry, Grimm...”

His features dropped, brows pulling together as he hesitated in taking the paper back, a serious expression on his handsome face and blue eyes never leaving her form. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I’m not allowed to help you read it.” She smiled at him, and something in her sparkling grey eyes made his slowly growing ire calm back down, “It says right in the first paragraph,” She explained, pointed at the sheet of paper, “he asks that Nnoitra and I help you learn, but don’t actually read it for you. He wants you to figure it out.”

Grimmjow stood in silence for a moment, looking down at dark ink on white paper. “...that’s messed up.”

Nel only laughed a pretty sound and shook her head as she pulled the heavy book from his hands. “No it’s not,” She assured him, “It’s actually very sweet.”

This kid, a complete stranger, was giving them everything they needed to help a man he didn’t even know learn how to read, including a motive. Grimmjow wasn’t stupid, he was just too high strung and stubborn for Nel or Nnoitra to ever teach him before, when they were all younger. He couldn’t sit still that long and simply wasn’t interested in looking at books when he could go exploring outside or sneak up into the tall districts.

The young woman flipped open the book as Grimmjow pulled her door open for her. Right away she knew what she was looking at; a children’s dictionary, complete with definitions, pronunciations, and pictures of the things being spelled. The wording in the descriptions was simple, aimed toward people with still developing minds and less understanding, but it would be perfect in aiding someone learn how to read.

She looked back up at Grimmjow, gently closing the book. A disgruntled but determined frown creased his brow as he yet again scanned back through the short letter in his hands. She smiled, “Let me make something to eat, then we’ll sit down and get started.”

Grimmjow grumbled a low sound under his breath and Nelliel could already see the restless energy making him want to pace. She laughed a pretty, charming sound and headed for the little kitchen in her home.

Much higher in sky, as the sun sank below the horizon and deep shadows swallowed up the city, Ichigo hummed a short, frustrated sound and scowled. Sprawled on his back upon his bed, his teeth toyed at his bottom lip as he stared up at the screen hovering above him. His eyes coasted through lines of text.

With a sigh, he shook his head slightly, and pulled his hands from behind his head. Positioning his fingers before him, a keyboard shimmered into being and he typed up a quick respelling.

He eyed the letters critically, before decided the arrangement looked much better. When he hit enter, the search on his screen began reconfiguring. Ichigo relaxed back again, hands folded behind his head upon his pillow.

Only a few minutes later, the search had run through every single name in the database that belonged to his city: the scraper his home was located in. His scowl only deepened when this search came back equally as empty.

He was positive he’d spelled the name right, though... Maybe Grimmjow was some sort of odd moniker, something other than the big man’s birth name? It seemed unlikely, considering the ring and nature of the name, but then... Why couldn’t Ichigo find him? Because of his Class A standing, he had access to some of the very best tech, military grade stuff, and yet a simple, low standing man was evading him. It was ridiculous and it brought an unhappy furrow to boyishly handsome features.

Ichigo sighed and swiped his hand through the air in an irritated motion. The screen was disrupted as his fingers passed through it, breaking up the image and sending it away. The keyboard disappeared with it and Ichigo rolled over onto his stomach as he listened to the quiet wind whistle between the buildings outside. The rest of his house was silent, his sisters and father asleep, but Ichigo lay awake in the dark, his mind adrift.

It looked like he’d just have to learn more about the target of his thoughts the old fashioned way.

•••••••

It’d been more than a week since he’d seen his blue haired stalker, though, with the task Ichigo had given the man, he wasn’t surprised. What did surprise him a bit, however, was that Grimmjow hadn’t attempted to seek him out yet. In his letter, he’d requested the man not come to him until he’d completed the given task, but he hadn’t honestly expected his wishes to heeded. The fact that such a stubborn and strong-willed individual -a man that regularly went against the rules and law even when the consequences could be dire- seemed so willing to please him spoke volumes to Ichigo. The mere thought left a gentle smile on his lips.

Relaxed in his usual seat, Ichigo glanced over as his waitress arrived, a small silver plater balanced between her hands. Upon it, a blue cup of steaming hot, freshly brewed tea, a small bowl of sugar and -Ichigo frowned a bit, orange brows furrowing just slightly at the oddity- an object that he’d never before seen nor had brought to him in all his previous visits. “What is that?” He asked curiously as the young lady approached.

The girl bowed slightly as she began setting out his tea. “A crane, I think, sir.” She answered, “One of the evening waitresses left me a note saying that it was meant for you. It was delivered just before closing yesterday. Unfortunately she didn’t say who left it for you...”

Ichigo frowned down at it curiously as the little paper crane was set on the table next to his cup. Ignoring the tea, he picked up the carefully folded creation and studied it. The little wings flapped when pulled just right. It hardly took him a moment to figure it out and he smiled as he did; a little, paper bird. Clearly it was from Grimmjow. How fitting, considering the man’s odd choice of nicknames for him.

It was impressive, cute even, but Ichigo had asked for a letter in return, not origami. 

Still inspecting the little bird, he picked up his tea and sipped as he rotated it in one hand. Only when he flipped it over did he see the out of place little marking on the underside of the fake bird’s wing, right where the fold was and very nearly hidden. Ichigo set aside his tea again, and pulled the crane closer. Ink. 

His features lit into a wide, happy smile. He almost hated to unfold the note, actually quite fond of the paper bird it took the shape of, but after a moment’s hesitation, he realized he could simply have Grimmjow make him a new one if he couldn’t figure out how to refold it. So he oh so carefully began unfolding the careful creases and flattening the paper out.

The letter was short, simple, written in careful penmanship that showed the foreignness of the task. As he read, Ichigo’s delight only grew. He picked up his tea and smiled into his cup as he sipped.

Dear Ichigo,  
It’s nice to finally be able to call you by name, though I’m still probably going to call you my little Birdie. Nel says that you must be a saint for putting up with me and I should thank you. So thank you for kind of helping to teach me how to read, even though all you did was drop a book on me.  
I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow. I’ll probably be coming straight from work, but I wont be late this time.

And at the bottom of the paper, it was signed simply, Grimmjow, with no last name, but Ichigo could hardly care. In all honesty, he was impressed with the man’s attempt, and success, with sticking to mostly proper decorum in his letter. No doubt he’d used Ichigo’s own as an example but there was something rather sweet about that. The thought was an endearing one.

Ichigo sat in the peace of a quiet morning, drinking his tea as he studied the careful handwriting of the man he was quickly falling for. The smile wouldn’t leave his features for the rest of the day.

Even when he had to join his father for a consultation with a patient, a small ghosting of a smile lifted the corners of his lips. Isshin Kurosaki glanced sidelong at his boy, practically feeling the change in the younger, and smiled as well. It was hard for a father to miss the obvious signs of an unhappy child, and just as impossible not to see when that unhappiness began slowly melting away, draining a little more with each day. He didn’t yet know what had changed, but he was glad for it.

In an exceptional mood himself, because of his boy’s seemingly high spirits, Dr. Kurosaki and Ichigo sat relaxed in a private room with a nervous woman and her worried husband, and assured them they were in the best of hands.

Hours later, Ichigo took his leave from his father’s hospital, leaving Isshin to oversee his empire. The older man, in a goofy but pleased tone, made a show of praising his son for a job well done that day, and bid him a good evening. He’d be home late that night, as he was everyday.

Ichigo tolerated the usually annoying antics of his old man with an exasperated chuckle, and waved a farewell as he disappeared through sliding glass doors to find his shuttle. He made it home in record time, practically running down long hallways and up steep staircases until he reached the floor his house sat on. He unlocked the front door with the ID on his wrist and an automated voice greeted him, turning on the low level lights and drawing up the blinds in the entryway so that the evening sun could warm the space.

The young man ignored the familiar, mindless voice -really just an over glorified doorbell- and hurried through the home, toward the back, where his rooms were located. He busied himself with changing into something nicer that didn’t consist of hospital scrubs and a lab coat, before he worked on tidying things up a bit as a way to keep himself busy.

An hour later, Ichigo’s gaze was just swinging toward the clock when the confident, but not overly forceful knock sounded through his home. He startled slightly, then climbed to his feet and rushed to the front door, only to pause and smooth out his shirt, tugging the wrinkles free. Just before a second round of knocking could break the quiet of his home, he pulled the lock from its place and slide the door open.

Handsome, smirking features met him. Blue eyes looked a little wide, not unsure or uneasy, but maybe a little surprised, and Ichigo realized this must have been quite the sight for a man from the short districts. He quickly banished the thought, not wanting it to sour his mood, and stepped from the doorway to allow his guest entry.

Grimmjow took a single step inside, before toeing off his shoes and leaving the filthy things at the door. He was quite aware of the slightly amused expression being aimed his direction as he looked around, hoping the shock and awe didn’t register too openly on his face.

He’d thought the outside had seemed fancy... The entry way alone was larger than Nel’s bedroom, maybe larger than her sitting room. One entire wall was made up of floor to ceiling glass, giving a spectacular view of the city’s roof tops and clear, blue skies. On the other side, a row of neatly potted plants stood about man hight, the leaves green and healthy. The walls were white, the ceiling as well. The ceramic pots were a light grey, glazed to shine and the flooring below his feet was a smooth, medium toned wood.

His attention was drawn back to Ichigo as the smaller started to speak, “You, um... You’ve got-” Ichigo reached up slightly, and awkwardly swiped his thumb along Grimmjow’s jawline, “-some... actually, you’re basically covered in dirt...”

Grimmjow grunted a laugh, a lopsided grin tugging his features as he looked down at the smaller male. A just barely noticeable red heated Ichigo’s features to a pretty, lively shade and though he’d pulled his hand back, it still hovered awkwardly not quite at his side.

“Yeah, well,” The larger replied, “I did tell ya I’d be coming straight from work.”

“True.” Ichigo conceded, shaking his head slightly. It wasn’t really a negative statement though, and he motioned for Grimmjow to follow him as he led deeper into the house. “How about a shower first? I’ll grab you a clean set of clothing while you bathe, and then we can relax and...whatever.”

Used to doing just that at Nelliel’s home, Grimmjow wasn’t shy in the least when he agreed to the offer. He followed his host through the large house, passed a sitting room that housed several large, plush dark couches and black and white paints on the walls, a kitchen with all stainless steel appliances, and several closed doors. Ichigo stopped in front of one such door, and eased it open, revealing a spacious bathroom with tile flooring and a separate tub and shower.

“I’ll find you something clean to wear. I’ll be just a moment.” Ichigo informed, turning to continue down the hallway.

Grimmjow watched him disappear through a door towards the end of the hall, before stepping into the bathroom. He made his way to the shower and pulled the glass door open, the bottom of which was frosted while the top was left clear. Not a single fingerprint marred it. He stripped from his shirt, dropping it to the tile flooring, then stripped from his pants as well.

A knock on the bathroom door announced that Ichigo had found him something to wear. The young man’s voice called through, “...are you decent?”

Grimmjow took that as a request to come in and seeing as he wasn’t the type to really worry about modesty, called back, “You can come in.” while still looking the fancy shower over.

“I realized noth- Oh my god!”

Grimmjow grinned. He could hear as Ichigo choked and turned away from him in a quick jerk of stunned motion. Turning to look over his bare shoulder he was quite pleased to find how red the back of Ichigo’s neck had turned, his ears the same shade and most likely his face as well.

“I’m sorry! You said you were dressed-!” Ichigo practically shouted, “I-I”

The poor guy... Grimmjow almost felt bad for flustering him so. Almost. “No, but I did tell you you could come in, so relax. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t looked at my ass before.”

“I have not!” But Ichigo paused, rolling his eyes. He swore he could hear that damn grin getting wider by the second. “Ok, well that’s different! You don’t have pants on this time...!”

“Lighten up, Birdie.” Grimmjow chuckled, “If I’m not shy about it, why should you be embarrassed?”

“...” Ichigo realized that that was actually a decent point. It wasn’t like he was the one standing naked in somebody else’s home. But he still didn’t turn around as he set the stack of clean clothing on a shelf near the door. “O-ok, anyway. The clothes are my father’s, since I don’t think mine will fit you, but he wont mind. Umm... Take as long as you need. Towels are in the cupboard beside you.”

Grimmjow chuckled and bent to turn the water on as he heard the door close, announcing that Ichigo had scrambled from the room. He missed as the smaller male sneaked one last, quick look at sculpted shoulders and long legs before pulling the door closed.

Once safely outside the bathroom, Ichigo covered his red-stained features with his hands for a moment. He was positive he’d never return to his normal pallor at this rate. Blowing out a sigh, he pushed away from the bathroom door and once more turned down the hall, this time towards the front of the house and his well stocked kitchen, where he pulled a few beers from the fridge. Returning to his room, he placed the bottles in the half-sized fridge there, before glancing around his space and contemplating what else he should grab. He had no idea what kind of foods the bigger man preferred, so he’d just kind of grabbed a few random things earlier.

The bigger man’s shower was remarkably fast, compared to what Ichigo was used to, at any rate. Ten minutes later -15 at most- and Ichigo heard the sound of dials being turned, before the hiss of running water disappeared. Still he waited, seated upon the luxurious, almost too large mattress that was his bed. Nervous tension made him drum his fingers silently across the dark, violet bedspread, though he had no idea what he was nervous about.

Finally, after deciding he’d given his guest enough time to redress and tidy himself up, Ichigo stood, crossed the space of his room, and exited into the hallway.

Grimmjow was already coming toward him, though had the look of someone who hadn’t been entirely sure where he’d been headed. His handsome features, smeared dirt gone and golden skin smooth and touchable, parted in a smirk as those ridiculously blue eyes landed on Ichigo. Damp, sky-blue hair hung around his features carelessly, weighed down and lacking the normally chaotic but careful styling. Brushing the tops of the man’s broad shoulders in the back, Ichigo realized it was longer than he’d first noticed.

The black, neatly pressed dress slacks Ichigo had dug from his father’s closet -he couldn’t remember the elder Kurosaki ever having worn them- seemed to fit quite well. Almost too perfectly, and despite that the tailored, sophisticated look was a bit odd on the lower standing male, it wasn’t a bad look at all. Grimmjow had forgone the button down Ichigo had given him to borrow, and now walked towards Ichigo in only the plain, white undershirt. It stretched tight across his chest and shoulders, and, not tucked in like it would have been had it been worn under something as it was meant to be, it rode up along one side to show just a peek of cut hipbone.

Ichigo swallowed and forced his eyes back upward, only to find that that teasing little smirk had transformed into an infuriating grin. Orange brows knit downward as Ichigo turned and swept his arm in welcome toward his open bedroom door, allowing the bigger man to proceed him.

“My apologies, my rooms are kind of small...” He excused, following behind Grimmjow. His gaze dropped toward the floor with his unsureness. Grimmjow was barefoot still, he noted.

“Small??” Grimmjow paused in the center of the main room, spinning a short circle to take in the space. The ceiling arched in the middle, where a chandelier hung and bathed the room in sufficient, but not harsh lighting. The bed took up the middle of the far wall, massive beyond any bed Grimmjow had ever seen. The carpet below his feet was a neutral color, soft and warm. The walls were clean, shelves filled with books and other items lining one wall, while the one opposite held an arched doorway. Photos decorated either side of the portal.

The doorway opened up into a short hallway, another door on both the left and right sides. One held Ichigo’s study, the other a small but completely furnished bathroom.

Grimmjow arched a skeptical brow at the smaller. Nelliel’s entire home would fit in Ichigo’s rooms, never mind the rest of the tall district boy’s house. And Grimmjow had never seen so many books in his entire life, let alone in one place. There was a fortune just in this room, and Ichigo thought this was small?

“Uhh...Yeah,” Ichigo fidgeted a bit where he stood, “Some of my friends’ rooms are bigger.” He shrugged.

Grimmjow merely snorted and shook his head, before confessing, “My friend lives in a house the size of your bedroom. This place ain’t small.”

Ichigo looked stunned, to say the least, “...really?” He wandered to the half-height fridge that sat in one corner, pulling it open to extract two bottles. He held one up in wordless offer.

Grimmjow happily accepted it as he nodded, “You haven’t been very far downstairs, have you?”

“No...I haven’t...” Ichigo admitted. He wasn’t naive, he knew he was privileged, but he was only just beginning to really see just how far the gap between himself and his world and Grimmjow’s was. He’d long since known the man was socially below him by quite a bit, but the few personal things he’d gathered through their interactions was really starting to make him realize how far.

Grimmjow twisted the cap off his beer, and tilted it to his lips.

A bit of a furrow forming between his brows, something of a determined light shone in brown eyes. “Maybe you’ll have to show me around sometime.”

The bigger male snorted a dry laugh and pulled the bottle from his lips, “Trust me, Birdie, you don’t wanna dirty your pretty wings down there.”

That fire in warm eyes only grew, “Beautiful things sometimes grow from dirt.”

Grimmjow stared back at the smaller male for a long moment, and he knew Ichigo wasn’t being naive or literal. He knew, as vivid blue locked with unrelenting brown, that Ichigo was throwing his argument away, telling him their status difference didn’t bother him, that it was unimportant.

After that long minute, chilled blue thawed a bit, and Grimmjow smirked as he brought his beer back to his lips.

A triumphant, nearly stunning smile spread across normally scowling features as Ichigo tipped back his own bottle. And just like that the heavy air melted away, and something calm and playful settled in its place.

“Tell me, Grimmjow,” Ichigo bid, a mischievousness to his words, “have you ever learned fencing?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Tell me, Grimmjow,” Ichigo bid, a mischievousness to his words, “have you ever learned fencing?”

“Fencing?” The big man frowned a bit, taken off guard by the seemingly random question. “Like with swords?” Ichigo nodded a bit, something of an endeared smile worming it’s way to one corner of his lips. Grimmjow’s gaze fixated on it for a moment, before he shrugged, “No... Closest thing I’ve ever been to it was when I was a kid, ‘sword fighting’ Nnoi with whatever we happened to find laying around.” A reminiscent grin stretched his handsome features.

Ichigo chuckled and took a last drink of his beer, “Well, it’s time you learned then.”

Grimmjow followed his lead, and the two left Ichigo’s room behind, taking a right down the hall and heading further into the house. “You just happen to have a sword fighting arena in your house?”

Ichigo, leading the way and so turned away, finally let his smile show as he nodded a vague motion, “Fencing,” He corrected, “and it’s not really an arena, just a large, open space, but yeah, basically.”

He pushed open a door at the very end of the hallway, revealing clean, white walls and a landing with a staircase that led up on one side, and down on the other, but no where else to go. Low level light flooded the small space with the introduction of movement. Ichigo stepped through the doorway, holding it for Grimmjow to follow, before he began descending the staircase on the right.

“How big is this place?” Grimmjow asked, not in the least shy about his lack of experience or knowledge of tall district homes. And Ichigo had apologized for his room being small... The bigger teen grunted a short sound and followed as they went further into the depths of Ichigo’s home.

“Well, the main floor is as you’ve seen,” Ichigo answered, his pace easy but not slow and his strides confident and graceful. “plus my father’s rooms, and my sisters’. They share rooms. Then there’s this lower level that we mostly use for fencing and archery.” Ichigo explained vaguely. They were headed there now, so there was no point in describing it further, “And of course the upper level, which leads to the roof. It’s been gated off, but it’s still open aired. That’s usually where we host parties or whatever. Yuzu’s garden is up there,” He turned to look over his shoulder, up at the young man following him with a proud smile, “Karin and I helped her plant a row of trees a few years ago. So she’s got something of an orchard as well.”

“Real trees?” Grimmjow couldn’t help but ask as they stopped before another door at the base of the stairs, “Not these little decorative ones planted all over the tall districts?”

Ichigo nodded, a genuine smile on his handsome features, “They’re only a few years old, but most of them are already taller than my father. He’s about your height, so I guess they’re growing pretty well.”

Even Ichigo knew how rare that was. Most of the trees were small, genetically modified to grow indoors. They weren’t real trees. They had the same basic functions, obviously, converting carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen. They grew leaves, and needed water and sunlight to a degree. Some even produced bark, while others had smooth trunks. But they didn’t bear fruit. Very few even budded with flowers, since their climate was kept near constant and there was no real seasons indoors.

The outdoor parks usually had larger trees, but those were equally modified to stay a certain size and specific colors. Besides, only the rich had access to those areas, not people like Grimmjow. And the orchards where fruit for consumption was produced were off limits to the public completely, even to Ichigo.

Ichigo turned, pushing the door at the base of the staircase open behind him as he smiled up at the bigger teen, “I’ll show you sometime.” He promised.

Grimmjow grinned right back at him, beyond pleased. Not only was he going to get see and touch real, living trees, but the smaller’s promise also meant that Ichigo apparently planned on keeping him around, and that he would be visiting the tall district boy more than just this one time.

The topic at hand shifted when the space Ichigo had opened flooded with bright, crisp lighting. As he’d said, the space was mostly bare and unfurnished. The floor was a durable, rubberized tile, the walls kept purposefully blank. A perfect circle had been marked out with a different color of tile; large and encompassing nearly half the room. At the far end of the vast space, targets for archery lined the back wall. Along the wall the door opened up from, something of a utility area had been marked out with a half hight wall. Within, shelves and cases and hooks were located; all the gear and equipment, guards and armor that could possibly be needed for the activities Ichigo had said were preformed down here.

Quivers of arrows hung along pegs in the wall; different lengths, colors, different arrowheads, and various styles of fletching. Bows hung nearby; compound, traditional, long and short. Fencing swords were kept in glass cases, every size and shape imaginable, some with differently shaped guards and hilts. And of course the characteristic white armor used for fencing had been folded neatly and placed upon shelves nearby. 

Ichigo slipped through the opening in the short wall, making his way to the shelving where all the fencing equipment was. He pulled out a white, lightly armored jacket and gloves, tossing them to Grimmjow. The bigger teen of course caught them, and shook them out to look them over.

“Foil is the most common type of fencing,” Ichigo explained as he pulled out his own gear. Customized and fitted, his practice gear had been made in black rather than the regulation white. He had a different set he used for competitions. “named for the type of sword used, but we’ll start with épée. The rules are easier to remember.” He glanced over at his guest to make sure Grimmjow was following his lead, then moved to select an appropriate sword. “In épée, the entire body is a valid target and any hit with the tip. The blade does not count as a mark, so if you land a hit with it, it wont count against your opponent. We can also simultaneously mark, rather than like with foil, where only one person can score at a time and a right of way rule is used.”

Ichigo pulled a sword from the rack, settling the tip against the ground as he measured it up to Grimmjow. Deciding it wasn’t quite the right fit, he put it back and pulled another sword free, before handing it over, hilt first.

Grimmjow accepted it and looked it over. The blade was dull, not sharp like a real sword’s, and the tip was rounded. No doubt it would still deliver quite the painful blow, but that was what the armor was for. The guard was bell-shaped, and covered most of his hand when held properly. The whole thing was much heavier than he’d expected, though, considering how thin and almost whip-like the blade looked. He hefted it’s weight and held it out at arm’s length, point extended away from Ichigo, to get a feel for it. “It’s pretty heavy for such a flimsy lookin’ thing.”

“Yes, épée swords are much sturdier than foil blades.” The orange haired boy smiled a bit as he pulled his own practice sword from it’s place. “Since I’m just going to be showing you how to use the sword for now, we’ll forego the masks, but in actual practice or competition, the mask is very important.”

The two left the storage area and Ichigo led them to the circle that had been marked out in the tile. Because Grimmjow was barefoot, he toed off his shoes as well, before moving to stand in the very center. Grimmjow followed, sword in hand.

“Ok, the entire point of fencing is finesse and grace.” Ichigo started, sliding one foot back and raising his sword into position, “You can only score with the very tip, so precision is key.”

After demonstrating a few motions, Ichigo had Grimmjow go through the same routine. He was surprised to find the big man was incredibly smooth in his movements, confident like he’d done this a million times. He probably shouldn’t have been so impressed by that, considering Grimmjow seemed ever sure of himself, but he was nonetheless. The bigger male picked up on the basics incredibly quickly. There was still an unrefined wildness to his style, but it was better than Ichigo had seen from some people who’d been fencing much longer.

When Ichigo had gone through all the rules and basics he could think of, he trotted back to the equipment storage and pulled out two masks. Tossing one to Grimmjow, he donned his own, and the two squared off for real. It was a little careful and slow at first, while Ichigo gave Grimmjow pointers and corrected his motions when need be, but soon enough, they were dueling in ernest and Ichigo even ended up on the defensive a few times.

After nearly twenty minutes, the two were a little short of breath, but clearly enjoying themselves. Good natured taunts were thrown back and forth as often as blades and laughter rang through the large space on panting breaths.

“Goin’ easy on me, birdie?” Grimmjow half laughed as he thrust his sword in close. There was a wicked grin hidden behind his mask, and it showed in his rumbling voice. Ichigo nearly tripped backward to avoid the mark.

Ichigo breathed out, “Not really!” as he threw his blade up and across his body to parry another strike. Behind his own mask, black rather than white, brown eyes went wide as he caught Grimmjow’s sliding motion a split second too late. It was a move he certainly hadn’t taught the man, and it was a little underhanded, but since they were only playing, it was certainly effective.

Tripped up while he tried to backpedal, he grunted as his back hit the mat. Before he could even blink, the point of a sword was resting against his chest, just above his heart. His armor insured it didn’t cut into skin, but he still felt clearly the pressure. “That’s cheating...” He informed, but there was enough amusement in his voice to show he didn’t truly mind.

Grimmjow merely shrugged one shoulder carelessly, the grin behind his mask growing all the wider as he stared down at the black clad figure pinned below his fencing sword. “Still won, didn’t I?”

Ichigo smirked right back, though of course, it couldn’t be seen, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Blue eyes widened a bit as a light but obvious tapping proved that Ichigo’s sword was still up and that the smaller hadn’t been beaten just yet. He glanced down warily at the thin blade resting along his inner thigh, uncomfortably high and much too close.

“In épée, nowhere is off limits.” Ichigo reminded. If Grimmjow was going to play dirty, so would he. “I’d say this match is a draw.”

Grimmjow started to bark a laugh, but before anything could be said, a small round of applause rose up through the space. Both young men jolted slightly, masked features swinging around to find two little girls standing a few feet away from the marked out circle.

“Well done!” Yuzu congratulated, clapping as a smile lit her pleasant features. 

Beside her, Karin grinned and arched a brow. “It’s about time someone beat you, Ichi-nii.”

Grimmjow grunted an amused laugh and finally pulled his sword away, extending a hand to the smaller figure still laying on the ground.

Ichigo too lowered his blade, accepting the hand, and climbed to his feet. “Shouldn’t you two be routing for your brother?” He pulled his mask free and moved over to welcome his little sisters home with a quick, but affectionate hug. “Besides! It was a draw, I didn’t lose...”

“Whatever you say.” Karin rolled her eyes, before directing her attention at the man in white armor. He was too tall to be most of the friends Ichigo usually had over. Ishida, maybe, but the man was much too broad to be the thin teen, and their father was obviously still at work, not to mention that Ichigo had seemed to be having far too much fun to be sparring against their father. “Who’s your friend?”

Grimmjow pulled his mask free as he moved to stand by Ichigo’s side, looking down at the two younger Kurosaki’s.

“Oh, uh, this is Grimmjow, you two.” Ichigo introduced, “Grimmjow, this is Karin and Yuzu, my sisters.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Yuzu said, her voice a sweet, polite chime. At her side, Karin held her hand out and Grimmjow shook it in greeting, a bit of a smirk on his handsome features as he looked down at the two. The dark haired one frowned back up at him, her grip surprisingly firm.

Despite that the two were very much different, they were in sync the way twins usually were, and they studied the bigger boy for a few moments, before looking to their brother and back with varying degrees of appraisal. After a moment, Karin spoke up, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, “We like this one, Ichi-nii.” Then she grabbed her twin’s sleeve and the two turned to scurry from the lower floor, disappearing up the stairs to leave the older boys alone.

Grimmjow watched them slip through the doorway, then turned to see that, at his side, Ichigo’s features had flushed a light shade of lively pink. Rich, brown eyes slid almost hesitantly over to meet vivid blue and a handsome grin spread across Grimmjow’s features as he barked a pleased laugh.

Not long later, they had stripped from their fencing armor and put all the gear away, and were making their way back upstairs to the main floor. Of course, since Ichigo was playing the part of host, he lead the way and Grimmjow walked behind him. It left Grimmjow with quite the view and it was an exercise in self-restraint. Lacking a filter, he settled for speaking his mind, “You have a perfect ass.”

Ichigo’s steps faltered as he choked out a sound and his features heated up, now very much aware of the intense gaze sweeping his form. As bold as that was, though, some part of it was flattering, the openness of the bigger man’s confession.

Before Ichigo could stutter out a response, Grimmjow chuckled a deep, reverberating sound and continued, “So… your sisters didn’t approve of your last boyfriend, I take it?”

“He wasn’t really my boyfriend…but no, they didn’t like him much.” They made it to the landing and Ichigo pulled the door open, allowing Grimmjow to proceed him into the hallway of the main floor. He smirked a bit as he followed.

“So I’m better looking than your last guy, and your family already likes me.” Grimmjow laughed a rumbling sound, pausing for a moment so that Ichigo ended up at his side as they headed down the hall, plush carpet soft below their feet. He draped a muscled arm over the smaller’s shoulders and turned a shark, bone-melting grin towards Ichigo, “Guess I got nothin’ to worry about, then.”

Ichigo scoffed, but a bit of an amused curve tugged at his lips, “You’re despicable.” He didn’t pull from the bigger male’s side though, and, after a moment of hesitation, even looped an arm back around Grimmjow’s waist.

Halfway down the hall, they paused before Ichigo’s bedroom, and the smaller pushed the door open before unlatching himself. Grimmjow stepped through and turned to walk backwards into the large room as Ichigo followed him across the space. “So does this mean I can call you mine, now?”

The orange haired young man snorted a derisive laugh, and cocked a brow as he watched Grimmjow seat himself comfortably on the edge of Ichigo’s bed. There was not a trace of unease in the bigger man. That self-confident little grin tugging at handsome features seemed nearly permanent.

Hands on his hips, Ichigo looked down at his guest, standing close enough to very nearly be between Grimmjow’s parted knees. “Is that your way of asking me out?”

Grimmjow shrugged a bit, grin still firmly seated upon his features, “Yeah, I’m asking you out.”

“Pitiful.” Ichigo said with a fake haughtiness. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up, though couldn’t quite hide his small smile, and said, “You’ll have to do better than that.”

With a sly little smirk, Grimmjow climbed back to his feet in a fluid motion, to stand so close to the smaller boy that they were nearly chest to chest. Soft brown eyes widened a bit as Grimmjow studied the higher standing citizen’s features for a moment. Then he threaded long fingers through orange hair at the back of Ichigo’s head and drew the smaller forward, tilting his head back a bit. 

It would have been absolutely ridiculous to claim that he was caught off guard by the kiss, considering how easy it was to see coming, but what Ichigo hadn’t counted on, as he watched Grimmjow stand and that knowing grin had claimed angelic features, was that it would have stolen the air from his lungs. The hand so carefully pressed against the back of his head was hot, almost burning. It was a firm but not harsh pressure, gentle, despite the strength behind it. Yet it was lost to his senses entirely the moment their lips came together.

It was warm, suffocating. The bigger man’s lips were a little dry, a little rough, just like the man himself was, but they fit so perfectly against Ichigo’s own. Slim fingers found and caught Grimmjow’s borrowed shirt and the small space between them disappeared completely as the smaller voluntarily pressed closer to the sturdy, well-honed muscle of Grimmjow’s chest.

A hot, slick tongue just barely glided across the seam of Ichigo’s lips and the smaller shuddered ever so slightly, the barest hint of an airy sound coming from his throat. He started to part his lips, ready to allow Grimmjow to deepen the kiss, but just as he did, the bigger male pulled back. He didn’t put space between them, didn’t unlatch the fingers from his shirt or remove his hand from vivid, orange locks. Their lips still touched, a light tickling of movement, as he spoke in a rumbling whisper, “Will you allow me to call you mine yet, Ichigo?”

Before Ichigo even found the air to speak, the words were tumbling from his lips. Pliant, rich brown stared up into cool but not frigid blue, and Ichigo whispered back, “Yes.” as his hands traveled up, slowly coasting, until his arms wound around the back of Grimmjow’s neck and he was standing on his toes, “Yes.” As he pressed his lips to Grimmjow’s again and he knew that Grimmjow was not like those around him.

There was nothing fake with Grimmjow, nothing hiding below the surface. There was no need to hold up pretenses or put on a show. Grimmjow was raw, he was genuine, and around him, Ichigo could be himself. He didn’t have to worry about appearances or worry about adhering to what was right and what was considered ok. There was nothing expected of him, the pressures of his high class didn’t matter while he stood there, right where he was. Around Grimmjow, he was free. Around Grimmjow, he had wings.

The big hand slid from his hair, traveled down the side of his neck, traced the curve of his ribcage, and finally settled upon his hip, matched by Grimmjow’s other hand. A deep sound crawled up the bigger’s throat, rumbling in his muscled chest. Pressed against his front, Ichigo felt it in his own body and a shiver worked down his spine.

This time, when Grimmjow’s lips parted and his tongue ever so carefully found the seam of Ichigo’s lips again, he didn’t pull away. Ichigo groaned a short, barely there sound and granted the silent request. Arms still wrapped around the back of Grimmjow’s neck, the smaller took a small step forward, forcing Grimmjow an equally small step backward. The backs of Grimmjow’s legs met the mattress of Ichigo’s bed and a sinful smirk tugged at his lips as his tongue caressed against Ichigo’s. The young man in his grasp smelled divine, felt perfect, and tasted even better. It was an intoxicating mix. They stood indoors, thousands of feet above the ground and surrounded by metal and concrete and glass, but kissing Ichigo was like coming face to face with all that he’d always loved so much, like finally meeting a god that had once ruled over their world of artificial structures.

Molded against him, Ichigo’s features were trying desperately not to match the small smirk he could feel against his lips. Another small step, a gentle nudge, would leave the bigger man sprawled upon his bed and he fully intended to join the man. It was beyond tempting. To have such a wild, uncultured, untamed person so enamored with him was like the rush of fresh, cool wind. It was dizzying, the kiss was dizzying.

He was just about to act upon his desires -and he realized Grimmjow knew it too, as the bigger male tensed up just slightly in wait- but a level tone from behind him startled him from his bliss.

“You could at least close the door, Ichi-nii.” Karin’s dry tone interrupted any further action.

With a startled sound, Ichigo jerked back and spun, like he could hide the larger male behind him. Grimmjow’s grin only widened, amusement obvious in his features, and resettled his hands against Ichigo’s hips from behind. Like he couldn’t quit touching the blue haired teen, Ichigo’s hands strayed behind himself, one settling over one of Grimmjow’s hands, the other finding the big male’s fabric covered thigh. “Karin-! Uh…We weren’t doing anything…” He stammered.

Dark eyes rolled as the younger Kurosaki gave her brother a level stare, before her gaze flicked up to her brother’s new friend’s gaze, and back. “Whatever.” She dismissed Ichigo’s pathetic attempt at innocence, and crossed her arms over her chest, “Dad’s assistant called: he has an emergency he has to attend to, so he’ll be even later than usual. Your boyfriend staying for dinner? Yuzu’s cooking.”

“Oh…” Ichigo turned to look over his shoulder, studying the handsome features looking back at him. Blue brows were raised just slightly, the expression on Grimmjow’s face a neutral one. He wasn’t saying he couldn’t for one reason or another though, so Ichigo turned back to Karin, “Yes he is.”

Without a word, and no more than a nod to show she’d heard, Karin turned and ducked around the doorframe to disappear from sight, no doubt headed toward the kitchen to where her twin was surely planning dinner. When she was gone and out of earshot, Grimmjow used his grip on lean hips to spin the smaller around to face him.

“Ya know,” He started, voice deep and a little low. There was a bit of a smirk on his face, but only just. “you don’t have to feed me all the time…”

Ichigo stared up at him with an incredibly blank expression for half a second. The bigger teen’s meaning was a class thing, he knew it was. Grimmjow was being ridiculous, probably feeling emasculated because he took it as Ichigo trying to keep him well fed, like he couldn’t take care of himself. Ichigo rolled brown eyes in a parody of what his sister had done -must have run in the family, Grimmjow noted- and pushed the bigger male backward. The backs of Grimmjow’s knees hit the bed and he sank backward to sit upon the edge of the mattress, bouncing twice before Ichigo was once more standing between his parted knees. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ichigo informed, “I was merely giving you an excuse to stay longer.”

“Is that what you were doing?” Grimmjow asked, though there wasn’t much of a question in his tone, more of a sly amusement.

“Yes,” Hesitating for a split second, Ichigo reached up and carded his fingers through the blue locks that danced in natural chaos atop Grimmjow’s head. It was thick, and not exactly silky soft, but healthy all the same, as was to be expected of someone with Grimmjow’s physique. He clearly took care of his body, why would his hair be any different. “that is what I was doing.”

Grimmjow hummed an approving sound, tilting his head back a bit under the light pressure tugging through his hair. “Good thinkin’. We got interrupted.”

Ichigo snorted a short laugh, a smile playing at his lips. Big hands coasted upward, away from his hips. The brush of fingertips lifted the edge of his shirt, dancing feather light, burning trails just above his waistline. Ichigo settled his hands over Grimmjow’s, and finally leaned down to give the young man what he wanted. Their lips again met as Ichigo slowly sank down to sit across one of Grimmjow’s legs, one hand still threaded through the thick, blue hair at the back of Grimmjow’s head.

Not all that long later, it wasn’t a sister in his doorway that interrupted them this time, but rather a call from down the hall. It seemed neither of Ichigo’s little sisters were quite brave enough to come fetch him and his friend for dinner.

“At least they’re quick learners.” Grimmjow commented with a chuckle as he followed the smaller lad down the hallway. Ahead of him, Ichigo merely shook his head and tried not to think about it much.

When they made it to the end of the hall, they took a right, toward the kitchen Grimmjow had seen upon entering. All the appliances looked brand new, like they’d never been used, but the smell in the room suggested otherwise. Off to one side, a modest but decently sized dinning area held a long, rounded table. Food in different bowls and upon platters had been laid out upon its top, a small feast enough to feed at least twice as many people as were currently in the home.

Grimmjow followed behind Ichigo, allowing himself to be lead to a seat and a bit unsure as to the customs of dining with a family that was practically royalty. As close to it as their society got, at any rate.

He wasn’t so surprised when the head of the table was left empty, and himself and Ichigo sat to the chair’s right, while the twin girls sat to its left and directly in front of the boys. He was a little surprised, however, when Ichigo thanked his sister for cooking, and dug right in, no further ceremony or tradition proceeding their meal. The girls dug in as well, and so Grimmjow followed.

The food was amazing, like something he’d expect to find at a fancy restaurant. “Your sisters made all this?” Grimmjow asked as he ate, peering at Ichigo where the smaller sat at his side, and then back over toward the young twins. They were several years younger than Ichigo, probably four or five, maybe six.

“Yuzu did, yes. Cooking has become something of a hobby for her.” Ichigo smiled as he took another bite, “A rather useful hobby that we all greatly appreciate and enjoy.”

In front of him, the blond twin flushed slightly, but gave the older boys a brilliant and grateful smile.

After eating their fill, dessert was brought out and even though Ichigo insisted he couldn’t eat another bite, his sister set a dish before him and he allowed Grimmjow to convince him to at least split it. Karin picked up her own dessert, and motioned for her sister to follow, as she left the room. Yuzu smiled at her brother and his new friend, and the twins left the two young men to themselves and each other.

As Grimmjow sat there, surrounded by finery he’d never known before and in the company of a young man that should have been far beyond his reach, he couldn’t help but notice the differences between them.

Ichigo and his family, they could have anything and everything. Anything they set their sights upon, they could call their own without a second thought. Status alone would get Ichigo almost anything, and if it couldn’t, than he need only scan his limitless account.

Grimmjow was the high standing teen’s opposite in every way. All he had to his name were his looks and his charm, but he hardly even had a name, unregistered. Nonexistent. He had nothing. He was nothing. For all the kindness Ichigo had already shown him just in this day alone, he had nothing to give back, no way of repayment.

Self-doubt wasn’t the bigger lad’s most notable trait, but he was sitting there, high in the sky in a kitchen that was the size of a house where he was from, surrounded by the very best that money could by. Even the fine crafting of the silver he twirled between his fingers and the handsome smile on the fair features aimed in his direction, put a crease in his usual confident and self-assured ways. All of this, all that sat before him, was too much. It was as much a shock to his system as visiting another world would have been. He came from the ground, the earth and the dirt. He wasn’t meant to fly.

Pushing a grin across his features and banishing such ill thoughts for later, Grimmjow stole the spoon from Ichigo’s hand and helped himself to another bite. The smaller male feigned offense, and both laughed about it.

After dessert, they retreated to Ichigo’s rooms again, and the smaller teen rolled open the seamless wall that formed a sort of solid curtain and blocked out a window that took up the majority of the wall beside his bed. Grimmjow took the unspoken cue to crash on the expansive, plush mattress and it took little convincing on his part to get Ichigo to follow him.

A little hesitant, more because he thought he should be than because he didn’t want to cuddle up next to the lower standing lad, Ichigo settled down upon his bed, his back to Grimmjow’s chest. As the sun sank below the artificial horizon of concrete and glass that rose high into the sky, the two fell into an easy lull.

“You probably don’t get to see the sunset very often, do you?” Ichigo asked in the slowly lengthening shadows around them. His voice was quiet, leaving the peacefulness and silence between them mostly undisturbed. The roughness to the edges of his words suggested that the comfort of his bed, the warmth of the man behind him, and a full belly were quickly taking their toll on him.

Grimmjow smirked a bit, rumbling a quiet sound as he felt the smaller male relax against him, comfortable and happy. Blue eyes nearly aglow in the fiery light of dusk, Grimmjow watched the spectacle through the enormous window and draped an arm over Ichigo’s middle, his long fingers finding Ichigo’s. Then, after the quiet had stretched comfortably between them for a moment, he finally answered, “No, it’s hard to find a place to see it from downstairs. Sometimes if you’re in the right area while on the ground…”

“…you go outside often?” He could practically hear the small frown in Ichigo’s soft voice.

“As often as I can.” Grimmjow quietly rumbled back.

“What’s it like?”

Grimmjow was quiet for a few heartbeats, thinking, trying to decide just what to say in answer. “It’s beautiful,” He finally settled on. Visiting the ground was as taboo as it was for him to climb so high in order to find Ichigo, but the high class boy hadn’t faulted him for that. Perhaps he wouldn’t judge Grimmjow for this either, “It’s not all buildings, like it seems up here. Eventually you find the end, and when you do, and you step out into clear land, it’s beautiful. There’s not many trees anymore, and everywhere shows signs of people; old buildings still made of wood, a cemetery with headstones sticking out of the ground. But grass grows around it all, and moss covers some of it and birds hop through the grass.”

And so Ichigo drifted off to tails of what real grass felt like below bare feet, how mud smelled and the imaginary buzz of insects, stories of how you could run and run and run until you couldn’t breathe and your legs shook and still there was nothing caging you in. His mind painted vivid images to match Grimmjow’s low, passion filled descriptions; pictures of smooth, tan skin washed in warm sunlight, and thick, blue hair swept back with the speed of the bigger man’s motions as he pulled Ichigo along by the hand, showing him everything the ground had to offer that humanity had forgotten about.

The last words he heard before he fell asleep, rumbled in deep, low tones; “Maybe I’ll show you after all.”

In the dark, Grimmjow let out a long, low breath and ran his fingers over Ichigo’s, where their hands were still intertwined against the smaller’s toned belly. He lowered his head behind Ichigo’s, resting it across his folded arm and burying his nose in healthy, orange hair to inhale the boy’s scent. If he hadn’t realized he was in trouble before, he certainly did in that moment, as he was enveloped in silence only broken by sleep evened breathes, the rise and fall of which created a steady, peaceful rhythm against his chest.

Yet, despite the quiet, undisturbed shadows around them and his comfort, sleep eluded Grimmjow for a long time. Hours went by before he finally fell into a light, almost restless sleep. He wasn’t asleep long when he was awoken again, by what, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he had a good enough idea. 

Looking around the dark room, the low level illumination of digital numbers told it was nearly 2:30 in the morning, and he laid back again, studying the sleep slack features facing him now. After a few moments of internal struggle, blue brows pulled downward, Grimmjow decided he’d be better off if he left sooner rather than later. Ichigo too. 

Quietly, he extracted himself from Ichigo’s bed, tugging a corner of the bedspread over the smaller’s form as he straightened at the bed’s side. Then he turned for the door, grabbing the worn shirt and dirt smeared pants he’d been wearing when he’d arrived.

The house was dark with the onset of night, and Grimmjow was careful as he picked his way down the hall. He was still half asleep, but he was almost positive he’d heard the front door open not long ago, as he’d been sleeping, and the arrival of Ichigo’s father was surely what had awoken him. As late as it was, the elder Kurosaki had most likely retired straight away, but Grimmjow had no desire to run into the man under these circumstances, so he was careful and quiet nonetheless.

It took him by complete surprise when he heard the barest whisper of scuffing feet behind him. Grimmjow had half a second to turn and ready himself, before hands were on him and he was shoved, hard, against the wall beside the front door. He dropped the bundle of clothing in his hands and grunted under the unexpected impact, features twisting with leeriness as he readied to defend himself.

Facing him and mere inches away, an older, but not elderly man man stood before him. There was a well earned strength behind the grip upon his borrowed, tight-fitting white shirt and broad shoulders promised that the older man was no pushover. His strong jaw was set, his features stern and maybe just barely aggressive. Intelligent, dark eyes studied his right back, drilling into blue as if in search.

Unsure what to do, Grimmjow said not a word, his hands raised halfway between them, ready to push the older man back or pull the hands from his body. He’d been caught, barefoot and sleep rumpled, by Ichigo’s father and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on, why he was there.

After the silence dragged out for a moment, then two, and Grimmjow watched dark eyes narrow as they made a sweep of his figure, before the older Kurosaki finally eased up and Grimmjow was able to relax away from the wall he’d been pinned against. When the man spoke, his voice was a deep, commanding tone, but quiet in the dark, “How long have you been seeing my son?”

Holding his hands out to the sides a bit, in a way that was meant to be neutral and calm, Grimmjow shook his head in a small motion, “We didn’t do anything…”

“That’s not what I asked you.” The frown on the doctor’s features deepened, dark eyes narrowing slightly.

Grimmjow hesitated, before answering, “…we met at the fete a few weeks ago.”

The older man seemed to think for a moment, nodding slightly as he did. Then he stepped back, no longer crowding the young man he’d caught sneaking out.

“This is the first time I’ve been here…” Grimmjow began again, not liking the odds of facing an angry, protective father, nor wanting to get himself or Ichigo in trouble. He still couldn’t read what was going through the man’s head. Standing in the dark, whispering in hushed voices, made determining that all the more difficult. The last thing he needed was for a rich and power, tall district citizen to call the authorities on him. “We didn’t-”

Isshin waved it off, “I believed you the first time.” He said, almost absentmindedly. Then he let the silence drag out for another long moment, letting the air grow tense with that fatherly menace. “You were sneaking out, do you not like my son?”

Grimmjow’s answer was immediate, forceful even, though his deep voice remained quiet in the effort not to wake anyone. “I do-! I…” Blue brows tugged downward, “I really like Ichigo a lot…”

The doctor arched a brow slightly, and folded thick arms over his burly chest, “And he very clearly likes you, yet you were leaving… Why?”

A bit of confusion marred Grimmjow’s features, because he couldn’t see why Ichigo’s father would ask him such a thing. After being caught in the older Kurosaki’s house, obviously with his son, Grimmjow would have thought the man would have been happy to be rid of him. Maybe warn him never to come back or something.

He paused, studied the older man, before deciding it’d be best to answer honestly. “Because…he’s too good for me. Your entire family is, your daughters… There is nothing I can give Ichigo, I have nothing to offer him. I don’t deserve him and he deserves more than me.”

Again, all fell silent. The darkness of the house was stifling. Then some of the frown on the older Kurosaki’s features lessoned a touch, and he clapped a hand on Grimmjow’s strong shoulder just long enough to turn him back toward the hallway that would lead to Ichigo’s bedroom. “What’s your name, son?”

The younger’s frown deepened, “Grimmjow, sir.”

“Listen, Grimmjow,” Isshin started, “Ichigo does deserve better, but, as a father, I’m going to think that of anyone he ever meets.” The elder man paused for a moment, a bit of a smile touching his features now. Then he continued, meeting swirling blue in the darkness, “He’s got more money than a boy his age knows what to do with. He doesn’t need anything from you, Grimmjow, not in the way you’re thinking. What he does need, is someone that can make him happy… The other day was the first time I’ve seen him with a genuine smile in too many years. My son likes you…a lot… Don’t take that from him over something so petty. You don’t need to spend money on him, you only need to spend time with him.”

Grimmjow remained quiet, but his gaze flickered off to the side, toward the room he’d snuck out of.

The doctor chuckled a quiet, reverberating sound, “Now, if you have prior commitments in the morning and must leave, you best go wake him up and tell him you’ll be back. Or at the very least, write him a-”

“I don’t.” Grimmjow shook his head.

With an approving nod, Isshin stepped out of the way and swept an arm in invitation towards the hallway, “Then I’ll be seeing you for breakfast, Grimmjow.”

Grimmjow didn’t say anything. His crystallin gaze swept back to Mr. Kurosaki as he edged passed the man, and headed back down the hall. Before he’d made it all the way to Ichigo’s bedroom door, the older’s quiet voice finally warned him of what he’d been expecting since nearly being pushed through the wall.

“And Grimmjow, I expect you to stay fully clothed and respectful while under my roof, especially while the girls are home.”

Grimmjow grunted something of a laugh, but turned a lopsided smile towards the older man and nodded slightly, before continuing down the hall.

Isshin watched the young man track down the hall without a sound. The boy was careful when he made it to Ichigo’s door, pushing the portal open noiselessly just far enough to slip through in silence, then just as quietly push it closed behind himself. After a moment, he relocked the front door and only then did Isshin reach up and tug his tie loose as he followed behind, headed toward his own room. He left the small bundle of dropped clothing on the floor where they’d landed forgotten. The maid would pick them up and wash everything in the morning.

After a long day at work and nearly having a heart attack at finding someone sneaking around his home in the middle of the night, Isshin was more than ready for bed.

As he carefully, quietly navigated the large room, Grimmjow looked upon the still sleeping figure laying on the bed. Ichigo was turned away from him, a blanket pulled up around his shoulders. The sight nearly made him ache, and he decided he’d have to remember to thank Ichigo’s old man in the morning.

The bed dipped as he started to crawl back under the covers, and Ichigo grumbled a wordless sound, rolling over to face him. Grimmjow paused, not wanting to wake him. Too late though, and he smiled as sleep-heavy brown eyes blinked open at him.

“What’re you doing?” Ichigo mumbled tiredly, sounding as if still mostly sleeping.

Grimmjow chuckled and slid the rest of the way under the blanket, slinging one muscled arm around Ichigo’s waist to pull the smaller against his chest again. “Bathroom,” He said by way of excuse, not wanting to tell Ichigo he’d nearly left. “go back to sleep.”

“Oh,” Brown eyes fell heavy again, and Ichigo sighed a sleepy breath as he curled against Grimmjow’s form, “you found it ok?”

“Yeah, you showed me earlier, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Ichigo was quiet for a long moment, breathing deep and even as it feathered across Grimmjow’s collarbone. Then, in a voice thick and slurred by the vail of sleep he was under, “You have a nice butt too, by the way.”

Grimmjow nearly choked in the effort not to wake the smaller up with his laughter. With a wide grin on his handsome features, and Ichigo’s head tucked under his chin, he closed his eyes for the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Ichigo was awoken early the next morning by the sounds of dishes clanking from down the hall and the rambunctious, obnoxious antics of his father. Something thudded heavily to the ground, followed by the older man’s distressed and overly exaggerated wails of, “Karin! My sweet little princess, why would you hurt your father so??” To which, Ichigo’s sister hissed at him to shut up and mind the early hour.

In other words, nothing new.

Groaning an annoyed sound, Ichigo stretched and rubbed at one eye as he began waking up. As he did, his elbow caught something warm and solid, and a happy smile lit his features as he carefully rolled over to find Grimmjow pressed close. The bigger boy was in a dead to the world sleep at his side, one heavy arm draped loosely across Ichigo’s middle. He hadn’t even stirred when Ichigo shifted, nor when he’d accidentally elbowed him in the ribs.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, the smaller brought one hand up and hesitated before oh so lightly trailing the tip of his pointer finger down Grimmjow’s straight nose, then soothed the pad of his thumb carefully over the seam of full lips, taking in the contours of Grimmjow’s handsome features. Blue brows furrowed just barely, but the bigger teen didn’t awaken and Ichigo’s small smile widened.

His line of sight following smooth skin, Ichigo let his fingers trail down the side of Grimmjow’s neck, then around until his fingers found the prominent point of the young man’s collar bone. Sleep warmed skin was soft below his hand, tanned to a rich color that made obvious how truthful all of Grimmjow’s stories about the outside from the night before were.

Finally, as Ichigo continued to let his attention and his fingers wander the young man in front of him, Grimmjow began to stir. The muscled arm looped around Ichigo’s middle tightened not harshly, but enough to drag the smaller even closer, close enough that they were nose to nose. Blue eyes blinked open as a lazy, lopsided smile tugged at one corner of Grimmjow’s lips. “Morning.” He mumbled in a sleep roughened voice.

Maybe a little caught up in what he’d been doing, before the word even fully left Grimmjow’s tongue, Ichigo closed the small gap between them and pressed a quick, feathery kiss to warm lips. “Good morning.” he half whispered back in the quiet, minuscule space he let linger between them as he pulled back.

Surprised to say the least, Grimmjow arched blue brows and rumbled a low laugh. From the bedside window behind Ichigo, morning light streamed in through slitted partitions in the wall, casting a pleasant, almost cheerful glow into the room. He worked his other arm under the smaller boy so that both wrapped around Ichigo’s waist where they laid, like he could hold the teen there and they would never leave that bed. For as long as he could remember, Grimmjow had ached for the ground, ached to be outside and free of the walls around him, but here, nearly as far from the ground as he could get, he was genuinely happy.

If the ridiculous sleep rumpled hair and somewhat goofy little tilt to Ichigo’s lips was anything to go by, he’d have been willing to bet money that the smaller teen would agree with him.

But the utopian illusion was shattered a moment later by a heavy, patterned knock upon the closed bedroom door across the room. Both young men jolted in surprise. Anger flashed across Ichigo’s features and his mouth opened to fling some worded reprimand to his annoying father, before it was quickly replaced by a strangled sound and a look of horror. He very nearly pushed Grimmjow from his bed as he jerked upright. 

“Oh my god, he’s going to kill me!” He whisper-yelled as he scrambled over Grimmjow’s still half prone form on the bed. Standing in the middle of his room, he spun a frantic circle. “Where are your clothes? Did we leave them in the bathroom? Shit!” Raising his hands, he ran fingers through his messy orange hair as he thought out loud, “You know what, it doesn’t matter, it’s fine. The maid would have gotten them this morning and she wont know you weren’t supposed to be here.”

Grimmjow climbed from the bed at a much more relaxed pace. Though the unexpected wakeup call had startled him too, there was an amused little smirk playing at his features as he watched.

Ichigo spun to him and if it were possible, his eyes widened further and the panic in his expression deepened. “Me?? He’s going to kill you… What am I supposed to tell him? Maybe he’ll believe me if I tell him you’re just a friend? There is no way I’m going to be able to sneak you out of here… How acrobatic are you, exactly – never mind, don’t you ever climb out of a window anywhere near me ever again.”

By then, Grimmjow was actually laughing. He sauntered up to Ichigo and dropped big hands on the teen’s shoulders, forcing him to quit his worried fidgeting and face the bigger boy straight on. “Ichigo, relax.” He soothed, a grin on his face. He didn’t exactly want to out himself about his almost abandonment from the night before, nor was he sure Isshin would want Ichigo to know they’d already talked, but he couldn’t let the kid keep panicking for nothing either, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like there’s much we can do about it, right? So there’s no point in freakin’ out just yet.” He glanced behind himself, towards the window with a lopsided smirk, “And I would never jump out of that window. I’m not suicidal.”

Forced to stop and focus on the young man in front of him, Ichigo took a deep breath and nodded, then chuckled and shook his head. “You could have fooled me.” He half drawled, then turned toward his still closed bedroom door. At least his old man hadn’t barged right in like he usually did. He’d take what he could get.

Grimmjow followed him from the room. It would have been a lie to say he wasn’t the least bit apprehensive over this soon to be meeting. True, he’d met Ichigo’s father the night before, but that had been under much different circumstances. Now, in the light of day and after he’d had time to think about Grimmjow’s presence, Grimmjow wondered if the man wouldn’t change his mind. “Your dad’s not really going to kill me, is he?”

“Uh, well… I hope not.” Ichigo let out something of a nervous chuckle, “It goes against his code of ethics as a doctor, I’m sure he wouldn’t actually do it…”

They tracked down the hallway and Ichigo edged around the corner and into the kitchen, where he found his sisters. Yuzu looked to be finishing up breakfast preparations, and Karin was setting the dining table for five.

When he didn’t see his father, Ichigo very nearly led them right past the kitchen entryway and to the front door, briefly entertaining the idea that maybe he could still sneak Grimmjow out without his old man knowing.

Karin looked up as her brother and his guest paused in the doorway to the large dining area. Like she knew exactly what was running through her older sibling’s head, she said, “Dad already knows he’s here.” as she went back to what she’d been doing. She didn’t actually shrug, but the sentiment was conveyed in the unaffected tone to her voice.

Ichigo mentally groaned, unsure if that was a good verbal shrug or a bad one. He wasn’t given long to worry, though. Not a moment later, a big hand clapped against Grimmjow’s shoulder and the young man flinched a bit, before Isshin was edging passed him and into the kitchen.

“Have a seat, boys, breakfast should be just about done.” Isshin rounded the table and didn’t hesitate to pull out his chair and seat himself at the head of the table, “Yuzu made plenty.” He half sang in a cheery voice.

Ichigo shot a surprised glance over at Grimmjow. His old man sure seemed to be taking his unexpected guest quite well, better than Ichigo had hoped. He supposed perhaps he didn’t give the man enough credit. Isshin was a doctor, after all, he couldn’t be as oblivious and goofy as he always seemed and surely if he’d had a problem with Grimmjow’s presence, he would have stormed the room long before breakfast was ready.

Grimmjow merely shrugged and the two followed behind the elder Kurosaki, taking the same seats they had the pervious evening. It would have been madness to complain about his good fortune.

Yuzu passed out food, filling everyones’ plates generously. Like the previous night, formalities and traditions were skipped and everyone dug in with healthy appetites. Silence settled over the room, nothing but the sounds of cutlery and eating, and for Grimmjow and Ichigo, it seemed an awkward one.

Finally, after several long minutes, Isshin set aside his utensils and picked up a glass. After he took his first swallow, he carefully put the glass back down so that it made not a sound against the hard table, and spoke up in the heavy room, “Well, Ichigo,” He started, going back to his plate of breakfast, “aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

Ichigo half choked and, more to stall than anything, grabbed his glass for a drink as well. At his side, Grimmjow looked from the elder, to Ichigo, and back again, as if trying to decide whether he should speak up or not. Ichigo missed the sly look his father sent the bigger teen.

“Uh- Dad, this is Grimmjow.” Ichigo finally stammered, trying not to sound as red as he felt in that moment.

Isshin looked amused, maybe even a little smug. “What? No denials this time?”

Ichigo looked mortified for a silent moment, then abruptly stood. “Thanks for breakfast, Yuzu!” and grabbed Grimmjow’s hand. He practically dragged the bigger teen to the front door.

Isshin looked on, a goofy smile on his face. A few seconds later, the two reentered the hall, Ichigo again dragging Grimmjow by the hand, back towards his bedroom. An amused grin split the bigger teen’s features as he glanced over to meet Isshin’s eyes.

The older Kurosaki shook his head as he listened to his son’s door slam shut, then the sound of drawers being yanked open. “Guess he really does like this kid.” He decided as he turned back to his daughters and the meal they shared.

A few minutes later, Ichigo, in a fresh change of clothing and still leading his new boyfriend around, stormed by through the hall again and Isshin chuckled as he listened to the front door being yanked opened and thrown shut in an embarrassed rush.

Ichigo didn’t slow their pace until they were safely from the housing district and away from his family. He blew a deep sigh as they passed through an elaborately arched gateway and into one of the many public zones; filled with shops of all kinds, cafes, restaurants, theaters and more. It took him a few minutes of aimless wandering to realize he was still holding the bigger teen’s hand and he awkwardly extracted himself, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Grimmjow grunted a sound that could have passed as a laugh; amused perhaps, but maybe not terribly pleased. 

Ichigo almost felt bad about it, but there was still a hint of pink dusting his features and it was too early to deal with disapproving stares and whispered comments, so he settled for angling a small step towards the bigger boy, so that they bumped shoulders. When Grimmjow arched a brow at him, he merely smiled. The small action earned him a much more pleased slanting of handsome features and kissable lips.

After another moment of idly walking through the shopping district, Ichigo sighed and glanced over at his larger companion. “I’m sorry about my father.” He said, more as a way to break the quiet that had settled over them than anything else. “He’s kind of… He can be a handful sometimes.”

“He seems like an alright guy.” Grimmjow assured. How was he supposed to think anything other than good things about the man, after what he’d done and said the night prior? But of course Ichigo didn’t know about that little event, and Grimmjow wasn’t sure he wanted him to know.

“Yeah, well.” Ichigo rolled his eyes. “You don’t know him yet.”

“You sayin’ you’re going to keep me around long enough to get the chance?” The smirk on the bigger boy’s face was sharp and witty and teasing, but it wasn’t cruel.

Ichigo’s features heated up all over again. He coughed a shallow sound and shrugged a vague motion, but he didn’t confirm or deny the question. Almost as if on a whim, as they walked through the shopping district and ignored the few people that paid them any mind, Ichigo’s features brightened and he turned a look on Grimmjow, “Who were those two you were at the fete with?”

Without needing to think about it, Grimmjow answered, “Nnoi and Nel. They’re friends of mine. Might as well be my family.” The three of them certainly teased each other mercilessly like siblings, and viciously defended one another too.

“I thought at first that she was your girlfriend.” Ichigo smiled, “You two would have made a good looking couple.” 

“You and I make a good looking couple.” Grimmjow assured the moment the words left Ichigo’s mouth. He kicked up his feet a bit as he walked, an amused, sly expression pulling at the corners of his lips. “I’m gonna tell her you said that though. She’ll get embarrassed and call herself my sister.”

Ichigo glanced up at the bigger boy and laughed at what he said, but his attention was more on the way Grimmjow’s mouth moved as he spoke, on the way his features creased as he grinned, on how bright his blue eyes got when he talked about his friends. “I’d like to meet them.” He decided, earning something of a surprised look, “Not right now. I suppose it would be a bit sudden for that, and rude to drop by unannounced. But I’m planning a party the weekend after next. You’ll be there–“ a bit of a smirk edged across his face at the way Grimmjow’s brow arched with his assumption, but he’d meant it to sound the way it had, leaving no room for questions. “and all of my friends will be as well. You should bring Nnoi and Nel too. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun?” Grimmjow half paused in his steps, but there was a grin slowly growing on his handsome features. The boy at his side continued as if unaffected, so he did as well. “You rich kids know how to have that?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, taking a haughty, teasing tone, “Of course we do. And we have more resources than you less fortunate.”

Grimmjow grunted a laugh, “Is this like charity, then?”

“Only if it gets me a tax break.” Ichigo paused and shifted directions, “What size does Nel wear?”

The grin on the bigger boy’s face dropped to a confused expression. He looked up to see the shop Ichigo was leading them towards. In the front windows, elaborate, richly made gowns and dresses were displayed on models of all sizes and skin tones.

To the almost stunned look on Grimmjow’s face, Ichigo merely stated, “It’s a party. You three will have to look the part.” and continued through the arching doorway.

Later that evening, after having been gone the entirety of the night before and most of the day, Grimmjow sat in the hallway, leaned back against the wall near the front door to his friend’s home. In his lap, a book was opened and he hunched over it, concentrating on what he was looking at. He ran his finger under the lines of text, helping him keep his place as he worked out sounds and words and read through the page.

About to call a greeting to her long time friend when she’d seen him, Nelliel paused a few meters away and instead remained quiet. She watched him for a long minute, thinking how odd the picture he made was. Had someone told her Grimmjow would have even sat still long enough to read, let alone be interested in learning how, she would have laughed it off and assured them it would never happen. Yet there he was, all because of a boy he hardly knew.

After a few minutes, she continued, smiling as she came up beside him. “You’re reading? I thought that wasn’t something you were interested in when you could live your own adventures outside.”

Grimmjow snorted, but finished the sentence he was working his way through before looking up at her. “I’m practicing. Isn’t that what you tried to get me to do years ago? Why are you complaining now?”

“I’m not. Better late than never.” She assured, nudging the bottom of his foot with toe of her shoe, “Get off the dirty floor in those nice pants.”

Glancing at the pants -the pair Ichigo had found in Isshin’s closet the day before- he shut the book. He dropped it on the top of a stack of gift boxes and straightened, picking up the boxes as he did. Nelliel gave him a look, and he grinned, “Only one of them is for you, sorry.”

She scoffed and pushed the door to her small home open, entering without so much as inviting him to follow. Of course he did anyway, laughing as he used his heel to kick the door shut behind himself.

Dropping the boxes on the table that sat only a couple feet from the door, off to the side, he pulled the paperback book from atop the stack and quickly rolled it, slipping it into his back pocket before grabbing the top box.

Nel took it from him, but seemed a bit reluctant to actually accept it. She looked down at the white ribbon tying it shut, than back up at her friend. Grimmjow wore that troubling smirk so well, and crossed his arms over his chest. That wasn’t the shirt he’d been wearing either, she noted.

“Don’t give me that look.” He told her, “He already spent the money, so we can’t refuse now.”

“We?” She asked, carefully tugging the delicate ribbon from around the box.

“We.” Grimmjow answered, watching. It was good to see her with such frivolous things as fancy ribbon and needless gift boxes. The dress would be even better, with its rich, crimson fabric and beautiful cut. “You, Nnoi, and me.”

“ ‘And I.’ “ She corrected offhandedly, as she pulled the top from the box. It took her a long minute to pull the fabric from the box, letting the dress’s length unfurl so that she could hold it out and see it in its entirety. She was near speechless, as she rubbed her fingers slowly against the fabric’s texture, looking the dress over. It was most definitely the most expensive thing she’d ever held, let alone been given to call her own. “Grimmjow… I can’t keep this…”

“Why not? You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s beautiful… it’s just…” She shook her head a bit, “It’s too much, he shouldn’t have.”

“Well he did, so if you really wanna insist on giving it back, you’re going to have to tell him that yourself the weekend after next.”

Nelliel paused, then turned to him as she slowly folded the dress against her chest, “What’s happening that weekend?”

That handsome, shit-eating grin was back on angular features, “We’re going to a party, all three of us, and we’re not allowed to say no. He insisted.”

An amused, pretty smile pulled at Nel’s lips as she blew out a good natured sigh, “You and your parties. Maybe you two aren’t so different after all.”

Nnoitra was even easier to convince. One look at the fancy outfit picked out for him and the mention of a party being hosted by a bunch of rich kids, and he was in for no other reason than an excuse to crash a tall district party. When he was told that he couldn’t really crash a party he was invited to, he simply ignored it.

And so the days went, with Grimmjow working and exploring the earthen ground below the belly of the sky scraper he lived in, and Ichigo working and socializing in the opposite direction.

Do to both being busy, it would be nearly a week before the two were given a chance to really meet up again. In that time, Ichigo kept up his usual routine; cafe in the morning so he could sit in peace and quiet while he looked over his sisters’ homework or read while he enjoyed his tea. Several times during the week, he’d meet his father in the elder’s hospital and they would go to work saving lives, or just as often, preforming whatever surgery a person thought they needed and had the money to pay for.

His mind was almost always drawn to the owner of blue hair and even bluer eyes, though. Everywhere he went, even when with his friends, he searched for the man in the crowd, almost expecting Grimmjow to show up like he usually did. 

‘Looking for your stalker?’ One of his friends had asked during one of their outings. Ichigo had of course denied it, but who was he fooling? Even as he’d uttered the negative, trying to sound unaffected and nonchalant while doing so, his gaze had coasted away from the his friend and floated back over the crowd in automatic search. He’d completely missed as the young man he spoke to shook his head in an almost exasperated way, ‘One of these days, Ichigo, you’ll have to admit to your little crush.’

The lower standing citizen was a strange man, compared to what Ichigo was used to. He was open and expressive, whereas the people Ichigo knew and grew up around were proper and uptight. There was a right and wrong way to go about things in the tall districts, and someone from the short districts sneaking up to such heights where the likes of Ichigo could be found was unthinkable.

But that hardly seemed to matter to the bigger male and it was slowly becoming less important to Ichigo as well. The more of Grimmjow he saw, the more curious he grew about the bigger man. People like Ichigo weren’t supposed to get involved with people like Grimmjow, but that didn’t seem to matter to Grimmjow, so why should it to Ichigo?

He wondered how someone like Grimmjow ended up where he was. The man seemed smart enough, though he didn’t have much to go by. Cunning and clever, at the very least. He was certainly charming when he wanted to be, and good looking. And not shy or soft spoken in the least.

That was part of what made him stand out, though, part of what made Ichigo reluctant to give in and admit to what he so obviously wanted, never mind that Grimmjow had already spent a night with him and that he’d already -in private, where no one knew about it- agreed to give this little relationship a try. This just wasn’t something that happened, it was considered unacceptable. If he came out and admitted to it, what would his friends think? It was a small miracle on its own that his father had figured it out and hadn’t seemed ready to kill him. Maybe he hadn’t realized just how low in the tower Grimmjow game from. Or maybe the elder was simply teasing and hadn’t thought it so true? Unlikely…

But he couldn’t stay away. Grimmjow had gotten into his mind, into his blood. The young man had slipped past his defenses, like a rat slipping between the bars of the cage around him. He’d infected Ichigo.

And in any case, the moment of truth was closing in upon them. The party he’d spontaneously invited Grimmjow and his friends to, before he could over think it and change his mind, was nearing. Soon enough, everyone closest to him would know and they’d either accept it or he’d face their scorn with his usual surely attitude.

Ichigo took a deep breath, casting a quick glance around as he headed towards the staircase at the very back of the scraper he spent most of his leisure time in. He really didn’t know how to find the bigger teen, but he figured if he headed downward, that was a good start. A man with bright blue hair couldn’t be that hard to find, right?

A last look over his shoulder, then Ichigo was taking the stairs two at a time, following the spiral of steep decent into the bowls of the city. This was something he’d never done before. He’d grown up at the very top of society, that’s where he’d been all his life. Someone like him didn’t venture downward, towards the short districts. It was madness. It was taboo and silly and unthinkable. And dangerous.

By the time he’d made it three stories, the differences began to become apparent and obvious. Only three levels down and he could already see changes in the way people lived and worked. The decor was still nice, the shrubbery and plant life still lush and well maintained. The differences were subtle, but they were there. The glass in the windows was different. The tiling less intricate, less ornate.

By the time he made it to the landing of the fifth story down, Ichigo’s swift pace slowed as he looked around, maybe a bit of surprise registering on his features. He was accustomed to fine things, a fine atmosphere. He’d only dropped five stories from his usual niche, and already he felt like he stood out, like he didn’t belong.

The people he passed paused to stare at him, or sent side long glances as they went about their business. Some of them were the kinds of looks people in the tall districts sent Grimmjow’s way. Ichigo was beginning to wonder how the man could stand it.

By the eighth, the people he passed stop looking curious about his presence. It was like he’d stepped into another world, another city somewhere far away. The tile was cracked here and there, the windows were old, the paint along the trim peeling. Those around him knew he was far from home, and they knew his home was up, not down. The looks started edging towards almost menacing and Ichigo scowled back, unsure how to take the veiled hostility as people whispered behind his back and pointed.

He was starting to doubt himself, thinking maybe going to see the bigger man in his own territory wasn’t such a great idea, when someone grabbed him by the shoulders. The grip wasn’t quite harsh, but it was certainly firm as large hands caught hold. Ichigo jolted and jerked away, spinning as he prepared to defend himself.

But the big hands didn’t let go and a voice spoke against his ear as his assailant leaned close and turned him around, back towards the staircase that led up. “You don’t belong down here.” Grimmjow grated, and Ichigo got the feeling that the almost aggressive quality was aimed outward and not toward him, “Pretty little birdies aren’t meant for the ground.”

“Grimmjow,” Ichigo tried turning to look at the man, but the hands on his shoulders didn’t budge and the man’s steps didn’t falter as he continued guiding Ichigo back towards the stairs that led back up, “I came to find you...”

“I know.” Finally, a bit of a smirk was obvious in Grimmjow’s voice, “An acquaintance told me there was some poor bastard with bright orange hair wandering around lost up here.”

Ichigo scowled over his shoulder at the grinning features and sparkling blue eyes aimed his way. Grimmjow finally relaxed a bit, releasing Ichigo in favor of walking at his side. Warm fingers brushed against his knuckles and Ichigo’s brows arched a bit, before he spread his fingers in invitation.

The hand that slid into his was warm, solid, the fingers long. At his side, Grimmjow grinned that charming expression as he wound his fingers tight.

“You promised to show me the ground.” Ichigo reminded him as they walked, and though that hadn’t really been his intentions when he’d come in search of his… whatever they were to each other, just yet, it was still a good excuse.

Grimmjow’s smirk dropped to a frown and his brows pulled together. “No I didn’t.”  “Yes you did.” Ichigo pulled them to a stop, one foot upon the bottom step, and turned to more fully face his larger companion, where Grimmjow would be forced to face the full effect of him, “When you spent the night with me, you said you’d bring me down here.”

For the second time in their short friendship, Ichigo was witness to a small bit of fumbling on Grimmjow’s part. The bigger boy hesitated, not quite ready to admit he had indeed said that. “Well… I didn’t promise…” He tried, but all the good it did him was earn an unamused look. “Fine, I did say that, and I do want to show you, but not now.”

“Why not?” Ichigo asked, “It’s summer, the weather is nice. It’s perfect out. Unless you’re too busy? But you had time to come all the way here and find me when you heard I was down here, so…”

Again Grimmjow hesitated, before he glanced around them like they were talking conspiracies, momentarily casting attention at those around them. Then he sighed, “Fine.” And squeezed his grip around Ichigo’s fingers tighter as he once again started tugging the smaller male up the stairs. “But not from here. We go up and over to the next building before we go down.”

Ichigo nodded, allowing himself to be led. “Why’s it matter?”

“The lowest parts of this building are close to unclimbable. The next one over is in better shape.” It was also the building he lived in, called his home, and some part of him wanted to keep that to himself, wanted to keep the drastic differences between their living conditions and life styles an unspoken understanding. Knowing about it, being able to guess at it, was one thing. Seeing it first hand was another. He’d seen how lost the higher standing boy had looked while wandering the halls and he hadn’t seen nearly the worst of it yet.

Ichigo’s voice pulled him from the thoughts, “You work outside, right?”

“Huh? Yeah. Maintenance stuff mostly. Couple times a week I go down to ground level and check out the infrastructure of the surrounding buildings. Make sure everything’s holding up.” He shrugged as they walked, like it was no big deal, “No one wants to do it, not even the guy supposed to be doing it, which is why it works out. I get paid under the table by some rich asshole who was assigned community service or something. I do it in his place.” At the stunned, slightly affronted look aimed at him, Grimmjow snorted a laugh, “What? Not everyone’s as noble as you and I like to eat, so I’m not complaining and I’d like to think you’re not going to say anything to anyone.”

Despite that that sounded vaguely threatening, Ichigo wasn’t easily put off and he shook his head, the frown still pulling at his brows. “No, I’m not going to say anything.” Truth be told, he liked the bigger boy being able to eat too.

Before the mood hovering over them could darken too much, Grimmjow tugged at Ichigo’s hand as he ushered them on, taking the stairs at two at a time upward and back the way Ichigo had come. A few of those around them stopped to look as they approached and hurried past, but the odd looks were far less hostile with short district boy at his side. Ichigo looked over to see the beginnings of an excited grin tugging at handsome features. Something innocent and even childish sat there, something pure.

When they’d made it up another two flights, Grimmjow took a sudden turn, tugging Ichigo right behind him. The smaller grunted a surprised sound, but caught on quick enough, catching his balance and following.

“You sound like you’re outta shape back there, Birdie.” Grimmjow laughed, shouldering between a group of workers.

Ichigo hastened to apologize and pardon them as he also ran through the center of the group, then scowled at the back of Grimmjow’s head. “I’m not out of shape! I’m just not used to running up and down flights of stairs.”

Grimmjow snorted, all in good nature as he teased, “Yeah, ‘cause the stairs do the work for you.”

Ichigo scoffed, but the offense was mostly fake. It was hard to stay mad at Grimmjow. It was hard to be mad at him in the first place. He was more carefree than Ichigo had ever had the chance to be, even as a child. He was wild and sincere. 

They slowed as they crossed a rickety, open-air bridge that spanned between one building and the next. Ichigo paused enough to put pressure against the hold of his hand. The other indulged him, stopping and turning to see what the matter was. Of course there really was none, Ichigo was simply overcome by curiosity. He stopped in the middle of the walkway, half way between buildings, and after a moment’s glance at his companion, made his way to the very edge of the walkway.

With hands upon the railing, he leaned outward a fraction. There was nothing to see but more buildings all around them. The skyscrapers stretched in a concrete forest for as far as his vision went until a thick fog of smog and dirty air obscured the distance. Looking up afforded much the same; brick and mortar and glass and metal all stretching as high as he could see, a peek of the blue sky between clouds and shadows here and there. Somewhere above and in the building they’d just left, his home sat perched all the way up at the tippy top. It was a dizzying thought as much as it was a dizzying sight.

When he looked down, his vision was yet again obscured by distance and poor air quality, but looking downward was also darker. The shadows grew deeper with the distance between them and the sky and somewhere below, the browns and greys and dark colors of the earth shaded it all in a lively way, like things lurked down there.

Ichigo started slightly when hands dropped on the railing beside his own. He looked over to see his companion, all in rich shades of life and fire, unlike the shadows and dull tones around them. 

There was a lopsided but amused smirk on handsome features, “We’ve still got a few more stories to travel down before you can see much.”

“Oh, right.” Ichigo muttered, straightening from the edge of the walkway. They both turned to continue, crossing the rest of the suspended bridge. “I never realized how tall the scrapers were- I mean, knew, but…”

At his side, Grimmjow chuckled, “I get what you mean. Just wait till you see ‘em from the ground. Unless the air is really clear that day, you can’t even see the tops, but from a distance, they still manage to look tiny compared to the world.”

Ichigo cocked a brow, giving the boy an odd look. “What’s that mean?”

Grimmjow smiled. “You’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I would love your thoughts!
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


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